Ancora
by encantadaa
Summary: AU set post 3x22: Unbeknownst to Kate, Castle already made a deal with her captain to shadow her. Unbeknownst to Castle, Kate has a huge secret. For Summer 2015/2016 Castle Ficathon.
1. Chapter 1

His seat was supposed to be first class. At least, that's what Paula had told him. But the ticket in his hand very clearly showed him to be in business class. He'd tried calling Paula, hoping for an explanation, but she hadn't answered. Typical. He'd have to talk to her about it when he got back.

For now, though, he was stuck in his assigned seat in business class, legs crammed tightly in the tiny space between himself and the row in front of him. If he couldn't be in first class, he would have at least preferred to sit by a window, so that he could lean his head against the wall to sleep for the duration of the six-hour flight from Los Angeles to New York. Unfortunately, though, he had an aisle seat, and it would be just his luck that he had to sit beside the morbidly obese man he'd just watched struggle to fit himself down the narrow aisle.

The man stopped beside Rick. "12A?" he asked.

"No, this is aisle 11," he answered, heart leaping with joy at the close escape. "You must be behind me."

The man nodded his thanks and continued on, shuffling past Rick to claim his seat. With his fellow passenger lumbering further down the aisle, his attention was drawn to the other passengers, including the woman that had been hidden by the bulk of the mistaken man. He wasn't sure how he could have missed her- her stunning looks made her easily stand out in the crowd. She was tall, slender in a way that lent itself to time in the gym versus lack of food, and her chestnut hair brushed below her shoulders in long layers. As she came closer, Castle could see her choice of shoes- high heels- were were giving her an unnecessary boost in height. From a distance, she'd been stunning, but up close she was breathtaking, something that wasn't diluted from the furrowed eyebrows or slumped posture.

When she stopped beside Rick, he felt his heart skip a beat. Luck was on his side today after all if this attractive woman was meant to be his seatmate for the cross country flight.

"11A," she said, almost as if it were a question rather than a statement.

"Yes," Rick breathed, grinning. "Looks like business class will be fun after all."

The woman was not amused, slowly shaking her head in response. She pushed down the handle on her carry-on bag and began to lift it, aiming to put it in the overhead carrier.

Castle immediately jumped up and stepped into the aisle. "Let me," he said, taking the bag from her hands.

She seemed surprised, but allowed him to put her bag away for her, thanking him quietly as she slipped past him to her seat. As soon as she'd placed her purse on the floor in front of her and fastened her seatbelt, she turned toward the window, slowly letting out her breath as she stared silently at the tarmac outside.

There was something about her, and Rick couldn't put his finger on it. Judging by the way she was curled into herself, gaze focused on the tarmac, she wasn't in the mood to talk. She took a deep breath, curling her fingers around the armrests, and he watched as the tension worked at the muscles in her face, the effort to keep her emotions at bay obvious.

He was inexplicably drawn to this woman. She was clearly upset about something, and he yearned to know her story.

Once he'd placed her bag in the overhead bin, he returned to his seat, strapping himself in. The woman was still turned away from him, but he decided to speak, hoping to get to know her.

"So are you a window-watcher?" he asked casually.

Her head turned slightly toward him. "I'm sorry?"

"A window watcher," he repeated. "You know, the kind of person who likes to look out the window on plane rides. Because I am. It's so cool to just watch everything get smaller and smaller as the plane take off."

"Oh." She pressed her lips together. "Yeah, I guess." She exhaled slowly, turning back toward the window.

Clearly, she didn't want to talk. He'd never met a woman that was immune to his charm before, but this girl certainly seemed to be, and it was perplexing.

As the plane began to taxi down the runway, preparing for takeoff, he noticed that she was taking deep, shaky breaths, and, if he wasn't mistaken, she was gripping the armrests tighter than she had been earlier. Whether she was nervous or feeling sick, he couldn't tell. He wanted to help, but she was a stranger. There was no way he could make it not seem awkward, or even creepy. So he sat still, hoping that she'd make it through takeoff okay.

Thankfully, when they'd been in the air for a minute or two, she released her death grip on the armrests and sat back, relaxing her shoulders as she steadied her breathing. She was probably just nervous on airplanes. Maybe he could help put her at ease.

"You know, I used to be scared of flying, too," he said, turning toward her. "I guess I've done it enough now that it's not so bad. I've been on dozens of flights, and not a one of them crashed."

She was silent, and for a moment, he thought she was ignoring him. "I'm not scared," she finally muttered, keeping her head turned away from him. "I just don't feel well."

Apparently, he'd misread her body language. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I'm Rick, by the way."

She slowly let out her breath and turned to face him. "Kate," she answered quietly, her eyes flickering up to meet his.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Kate," Castle said, smiling, studying her face carefully. Her brow was knitted, lips pressed together in a grim line, and the bags under her eyes alerted him to her exhaustion. He knew that whatever was causing her to be so preoccupied must also be keeping her from sleeping. And though he didn't want to pry, his curiosity prompted him to speak again.

"So why are you headed to New York?" he asked.

"Because I live there," she answered, a hint of fatigue in her voice.

"Me, too!" Castle grinned. "So what do you do?"

"I'm NYPD."

"Oh, that's so cool!" Castle exclaimed. "So what do you do? Drug busts? Traffic tickets? Ooh, are you on the K9 unit? I've always thought the K9 cops were…"

"Homicide detective," she interrupted, sighing.

"A homicide detective?" he nearly shouted, grinning. "That's pretty badass. It's even cooler since you're a girl."

The corners of her mouth slowly began to raise, as if she wanted to smile, but was fighting it. "Yeah, I guess so," she agreed, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Although it was small, it was the first smile he'd seen from her, and it made all the difference. No longer was she a woman burdened down by whatever problem had followed her onto the plane, now she was temporarily at ease, her physical beauty meeting some inner happiness that made him smile in response.

"So what were you doing in Los Angeles?" he asked. "Going on vacation? Chasing bad guys across the country?"

Her face immediately fell, and he instantly regretted asking. "Oh, no, I-"

"Investigating a murder," she said quietly, eyes averted to her lap.

Castle's eyebrows immediately shot up as he began to make a connection in his mind. "You wouldn't happen to be Detective Kate Beckett, would you?" he asked.

She looked up at him, surprise and confusion written across her face. "How do you know my name?" she asked, tensing her shoulders.

"It is you!" Castle exclaimed. "Wow, this is coincidental. You see," he continued, pulling a folded newspaper out of his bag, "I picked this up at my hotel this morning. _New York Times_. It almost makes LA feel like home," he joked, grinning. When Kate didn't laugh, he continued.

"I found this article," he said, thumbing through the pages until he landed on the correct one. "Look! ' _A murder in Manhattan garnered an arrest in Los Angeles, CA on May 5 as Russell Ganz was formally charged by the Los Angeles Police Department for the murder of retired New York police officer Michael Royce. Mr. Royce's former partner, NYPD Detective Kate Beckett, served as the official liaison and arresting officer for the NYPD._ ' I'm sorry to hear about your partner," he added, noting how Kate's face had fallen when he mentioned Royce's name. Perhaps that was the reason she seemed so preoccupied.

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "It's fine," she whispered, waving her hand in dismissal of his words. The deep, shaky breath that followed indicated that she obviously wasn't fine, but he didn't press.

"And that's not the first time I've read about you, Detective Beckett," Rick continued, folding up the newspaper and tucking it back into his bag. "If I'm not mistaken, you returned a toddler to her father a couple of years ago after her mother and aunt planned the girl's kidnapping. My favorite, though, was when you solved the murder of that guy who thought he was a vampire- on Halloween, no less. All that to say, I've been reading about you for quite some time."

"Thanks," she mumbled, a shy grin appearing on her face as her cheeks flushed. She was no longer holding tension in her shoulders, appearing to be much more relaxed than she had been a few moments ago. Maybe she wasn't immune to his charm after all.

"My full name is Richard Castle. I'm a mystery writer," he said. "Maybe you've heard of me? The _Derrick Storm_ series?" She mumbled something unintelligible, still staring at the ground. If he wasn't mistaken, her cheeks were turning a brighter shade of red. .

"Well, anyway," he continued, "I've killed off Storm, which is sad, because I really liked that guy. I just finished up with a "Storm" book tour in LA. But now I'm stuck. I've been wanting to shadow a detective for a long time, to get some ideas for a new detective series that's been brewing in my mind for a while. I just need some character inspiration, you know? I'm friends with the mayor and have already spoken with him about it. And guess who I asked him if I could shadow?"

Kate looked up, eyes wide. "You didn't," she whispered, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"I did," Castle answered, a pleased grin on his face. "He's already spoken with your captain, and I'm set to start tomorrow. Of course, I'm sure that your captain was going to tell you before I got there in the morning, but now you already know. It's like our meeting today was a confirmation that this was supposed to happen! It's fate, Detective."

Kate was silent for a moment, staring at him. Finally, she sighed. "I can't believe Montgomery agreed to that without asking me," she finally muttered, rubbing her temples.

"Oh, come on," Castle continued. "It'll be fun. I'll get to go everywhere with you. Think of me as your plucky sidekick." He smirked, proud of his joke.

But once again, Kate didn't laugh. Instead, she turned away from him to face the window. She took a deep, shaky breath, and he watched as her shoulders fell, trembling. After a second deep breath, she reached up and swiped at her cheek.

Was she crying?

A sniffle confirmed his suspicions. Damn it, he'd just made a perfect stranger cry because of his teasing. "Hey," he said gently. "I was just joking- I didn't mean to… are you okay?" he asked.

It took a moment but slowly she turned to look at him, and he could see the sadness reflected in her tear-filled eyes. "Look, it's nothing against you, but…" she paused, taking a deep breath, as if to steady herself. "I'm just not in the mood to talk right now." A stray tear escaped from one of her eyes, and she quickly wiped it, pressing her lips together firmly.

"It's okay," Castle reassured. "I understand."

Kate nodded curtly, turning back to the window, and Castle pulled the Sky Mall catalog from the pocket of the seat in front of him. He flipped through the pages, soon engrossed with all of the useless gadgets and trinkets the magazine showcased. A sniffle from Kate periodically drew him out of his reading, and he'd look over at her, hoping she'd say something, ready and willing to talk to her. But she stayed silent, only moving occasionally to wipe tears from her face. At one point, she reached into her bag and pulled out a letter of some sort, studying it for a long time before tucking it back into her bag. As much as he wanted to be able to help, he knew that whatever was going on with Kate must be deeply personal, and asking would have been overstepping his boundaries.

Two hours later, when they hit some mild turbulence due to a storm over Kansas City, she finally turned to face forward, her face quickly blanching. "I think I'm going to be sick," she murmured, her voice weak and strained.

"No, no," Castle responded quickly. "You're not. Let me help."

Before she could protest, he'd taken both of her hands in his, turning her slightly toward him. Her skin was cool and smooth, and the touch was electrifying. Judging by the goosebumps that began to crawl across her flesh, she felt something, too. But her quick, shallow breaths indicated that it wasn't the best time to get lost in some fantasy about the attractive, if reluctant, Detective Beckett.

 _Focus, Rick._

"You close your eyes and take deep breaths," he said gently, sliding his hands down to her wrists. With his thumb and index finger, he began to apply pressure to both sides of her wrists, reminding her to continue to breathe. Her eyes had slipped shut, and he could feel her pulse, much quicker than it should have been, underneath his fingers. They stayed that way long after the turbulence ended, with Castle continually applying pressure, feeling her heartbeat gradually slow to a normal rate. Finally, Kate exhaled, eyes slowly opening and a flush of color beginning to return to her cheeks.

"Thanks," she murmured, staring down at his hands. She remained still, allowing Castle to hold her for just a moment longer before slowly pulling her hands from his. "How… how did you do that?"

"Pressure points on the wrists," Castle said simply. "You know, they make these wristbands now that have little balls built into them. You line the ball up with the pressure point, and it has the same effect. If you get motion sick a lot, you should consider getting some."

Kate was silent for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pressed together tightly. "It's not motion sickness," she finally said, her voice so quiet he could hardly hear it. "I mean, it could have been this time, but I've never gotten motion sickness before... I think it was…" she trailed off.

"Not motion sickness? What do you think it is, then?" Castle asked, concerned.

"It's nothing," she said wearily, biting her lip as she glanced away. "Forget I said anything."

She shifted toward the window again, and Castle sighed, leaning back in his seat. For just a moment, she'd almost allowed herself to be open with him, but just as quickly, she'd become defensive. He began to wonder if there more going on with Kate than simply grieving her former partner's murder, judging by the way she was open one moment and cagey the next, prone to unexpected tears. Perhaps she was having problems at work, or had just been through a recent breakup. Whatever the case, something was wreaking havoc on her emotions, and he was desperate to know. But unless she decided to tell him, he likely wouldn't find out.

With a sigh of defeat, he pulled out his phone and opened his Angry Birds app, glancing at Kate from the corner of his eye between games. She stared out the window for a long time, periodically sighing or shifting slightly, but finally leaned her chair back and closed her eyes. Within minutes, her breathing was slow and steady. She slept for the remainder of the flight, and when the plane finally came to a stop at its gate, she stirred, unbuckling her seatbelt and slipping her shoes back on her feet.

"Sleep well?" Castle asked with a grin, unbuckling his own belt.

Kate was still for a moment, shoulders tensed, as though the question had caught her off guard. "Yeah, I did," she admitted shyly, suppressing a grin as she reached to pick up her purse from the floor.

As they stood up, waiting to exit the plane, Castle turned toward her. "Well, Detective Beckett, it was a pleasure to meet you," he said, smiling. "But this isn't goodbye, is it? I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Kate sighed, her face falling as she lowered her chin. "About that…" she started. "You're going to have to find someone else to shadow."

"What? Why?" Castle asked. She didn't answer, still looking at the ground. "If it's something I did, Kate, I'm sorry."

"It's nothing you did," she said, looking up at him. "It's just that…" She paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, he could see the nervousness etched into them.

"I'm pregnant," she said quietly. "And when I tell my captain tomorrow, he's going to place me on desk duty for the rest of my pregnancy. So you need to find someone else." Kate's eyes lingered on his for a moment, then immediately fell to the ground as she ran a hand nervously through her hair.

She was _pregnant_. Well, that certainly explained the rapidly changing emotions, defensiveness, and the impending nausea. Still, he could sense that there was more going on with her than she was sharing.

"Well, congratulations, Detective," Castle said, giving her a genuine smile. "I'm very happy for you."

A slight smile began to play at the corners of her mouth. "Thanks," she said, looking up at him again. "I'm sorry I'm so awkward. I just… I only found out yesterday, and you're the first person I've told," she admitted. "I don't even know why I told you, because I don't even know you, but…" she trailed off, cheeks flushing.

She hadn't told anyone? That was surprising, but made sense, considering how nervous she'd seemed just a moment ago. Perhaps his theory about a recent breakup wasn't too far off, or maybe things were already rocky with the baby's father. In either case, her behavior toward him over the past few hours was starting to make sense. She'd either been let down or betrayed by a man she thought she could trust, and trusting another man, especially a stranger, couldn't have been easy.

"I'm honored that you told me," Castle reassured her. "But we can still get to know each other. I'm sure that there's a lot I could learn from observing desk duty."

She pressed her lips together in a grim line, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that will work." Her eyes wandered past his shoulder, and she motioned for Castle to turn around. The travelers had begun to exit the plane, and the row in front of them had just vacated. He stepped into the aisle and turned to the overhead bin, pulling Kate's bag down and handing it to her. She followed behind him as he filed out the door and onto the jet bridge.

"Are you sure?" he asked as they walked through the jet bridge to the terminal. "I mean, I can help you with whatever you need, and I really could learn a lot…"

"Mr. Castle," she interrupted, voice firm. "I'm very sure that when I tell you it won't work, that it will not."

Her hazel eyes bored into his, and for the first time that day, he was able to see a glimpse of the accomplished, successful detective he'd been admiring for years, rather than the unsure woman he'd met that morning. The change in demeanor made Castle grin. He liked this version of Kate.

She caught him grinning, too, but didn't mention it, allowing him to follow her in silence to the baggage claim. When he insisted on retrieving her bag from the carousel, Kate didn't fight him, other than making a quiet declaration that she was capable of doing it herself. And, despite her eye rolls at his antics, the word of thanks when he presented her bag was genuine, as was the grin that she hadn't been able to stop from appearing on her face.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," she said as they stopped at the airport exit.

"Yeah, I guess so," Castle responded. "It was a pleasure, Detective."

She nodded, running a hand through her hair. "Sorry it didn't work out… good luck finding a new detective to shadow." Kate pressed her lips together tightly, the corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly as she began to walk off, suitcase rolling along behind her.

Castle watched her as she walked away, her shoulders squared confidently. "See you tomorrow," he said quietly, grinning. She'd put too much distance between them to possibly have heard him, but he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he strolled into the precinct the next morning and announced that there was indeed a lot he could learn from desk duty.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_ _Thanks to alwayswritewithcoffee for her amazing beta work. Your reviews and comments are appreciated!_

 _ **Ancora:** (Italian) still; yet; more; anchor_


	2. Chapter 2

When you were pregnant, caffeine became the enemy. Kate didn't know exactly what the effects of consuming a grande skim latte would be to the baby, but she was going to take the risk this morning. After two days of restlessness and no sleep, the jolt to her system was a necessary way to get her day going.

Sitting in a packed subway car filled with morning commuters, she couldn't help but think about how she had ignored all the signs. The dizziness, fatigue, and soreness, even the nausea had been subtle at first; almost as if she'd been developing a cold. But no sinus pressure or cough had developed- just lingering sickness and a constant exhaustion that she couldn't shake.

And then she'd missed her first period, which she'd written off as stress. But by the second missed cycle, not to mention the other lingering symptoms, she'd known. Despite that, she still put off taking the test for another week.

When two pink lines appeared on the test, she'd stood frozen, staring wide-eyed at the stick in her hands, as if watching it long enough would make the result change. Reality had finally hit with the speed of a freight train, the impact leaving her numb with its implications. Time had seemed to stop while she laid on the floor in the bathroom of her Los Angeles hotel room, a meaningless representation of hours and minutes that weren't as important as the life changing event forged by the existence of those two pink marks.

By the time she'd gotten up from the floor, she'd made a decision of sorts. Abortion wasn't an option, not that it meant she'd keep the baby. Kate was a cop, hardly mother material, and she didn't know the first thing about raising a child, nor was she sure that she could. But even though this baby was unexpected, she couldn't rationalize terminating the pregnancy. Adoption wasn't out of the question, though, and the more she thought about it, the more appealing that option seemed. As she got out of the subway car, pausing to toss her empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can, she made a mental note to begin researching different adoption agencies.

Regardless of her decision, or even the current lack of one, she'd still have to break the news of her pregnancy to her friends and family. At the moment, Richard Castle— her favorite author— was the only person that knew her secret. Telling him had been surprisingly easy; after all, she was never going to see him again. It was telling the people she loved that would be significantly harder. Just the thought of it was enough to make her panic.

The entire situation was unavoidable; a ticking time bomb that would detonate in a fairly obvious way once she reached the point of no return. Pregnancy was like that—you couldn't hide it forever.

With every step she took toward the precinct, her anxiety grew, and by the time she stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to take her to the homicide floor, she felt as though her heart were about to burst out of her chest.

Kate barely heard Ryan and Esposito's greetings as she stepped off of the elevator, her progress towards her own desk more of an ingrained habit than a conscious thought to keep moving. Even taking a seat at her desk was on autopilot, one finger activating both buttons to power up her computer monitor and the processing unit. Behind her, the boys were already whispering, undoubtedly trying to crack the mystery she was presenting for them. By the time her computer had fully booted up, Ryan had already asked if she was okay, and she'd given a dismissive wave of her hand.

She wasn't, but considering that Montgomery would have her on desk duty by the end of the day, they'd figure out what was going on soon enough. And then she'd have to tell Lanie, another name on the list of people who really needed to know.

Lanie, the boys, Captain Montgomery, and her father.

Oh God, what would her father say?

That was as far as she got in analyzing Jim Beckett's potential reaction to a grandchild before she noticed Montgomery leaning out of his office, his eyes focused directly on her. "Beckett," he called across the bullpen. "A word, please."

 _Damn._ She'd really needed a few minutes at her desk to gather her thoughts and to come up with some sort of plan of what she was going to say before she had to speak with the captain. But now the moment of truth had arrived, much sooner than she was expecting. Kate's heart began to pound as she walked across the bullpen, butterflies dancing nervously in her stomach as she stepped into his office.

She made sure that she closed the door behind her. The last thing she needed would be the curiosity of the others in the bullpen making her the star of the precinct gossip mill before she was ready.

"Have you finished your case report yet?" Montgomery asked, motioning for her to sit in a chair across from his desk.

"Yes, sir," Kate said, hoping her voice wasn't shaking. "I'll email it to you soon." She sat down, folding her trembling hands in her lap.

"Perfect, thanks. Now listen, Beckett, there's something that I need to talk to you about," Montgomery started.

"Sir, if it's about Mr. Castle, I already know," she interrupted. "He and I happened to sit beside each other on the plane yesterday."

Montgomery's eyebrows raised in surprise. "What a coincidence," he mused. "I assume he told you about his plan to shadow you for his book?"

"Yes, sir," Kate said quietly, feeling her heart begin to flutter nervously. "But…" She paused, lowering her eyes as she took a deep breath, willing herself to continue. _Just say it, Kate. Just tell him._

"Is there a problem?" Montgomery asked. His tone was business-like, but when she looked up, she could see the concern in his eyes.

 _Just say it, Kate. 'Yes, there is a problem.'_

"N-no, sir, no problem," she squeaked, shaking her head.

"Great," Montgomery affirmed. "Because he called me a few minutes ago to let me know that he was on his way. He should be here any minute."

 _Damn it, Castle!_ She was going to throttle him. When they'd parted at the terminal yesterday, it had been with an understanding that he would find a new detective to shadow for his book, but apparently, honoring her request wasn't something that he intended to do. And now she had to wonder about the rest of it. If he wasn't going to hold up his end of the bargain in finding a new detective to shadow, what were the chances that he'd keep her secret?

There was no way to get out of the deal now; not after she'd just lied to Captain Montgomery. Backing out now meant that she would have to give a solid reason, one which she obviously wasn't prepared to own up to.

But how long could she keep the lie up? She wouldn't be able to hide this for much longer. Montgomery would eventually learn the truth, and he'd be angry when he found out that she'd withheld it from him. Pregnant officers and detectives weren't allowed to work in the field, per NYPD regulations, and were supposed to report a pregnancy to their superiors as soon as they became aware of it, so that they could be taken out of the field until the baby was born. The policy was as much for the protection of mother and child as it was a way to prevent a lawsuit, and breaking the policy certainly came with consequences. At the least, Kate would be suspended without pay for an undetermined period of time. At the most, she would be out of a job.

Before she could fully consider the ramifications, there was a knock on the office door. "Oh, here he is now," Montgomery said cheerfully, looking through his office window as he motioned with his hand. "Come on in, Mr. Castle."

The author waltzed into the office, his shoulders squared confidently. When his eyes met hers, he smiled, unfazed by the glare she was shooting him. "Hello, Captain Montgomery," he greeted, tearing his eyes from Kate as he walked up to the large desk, arm extended for a handshake that Montgomery returned warmly. With greetings and pleasantries out of the way, the captain gestured for the writer to take the empty chair beside Kate.

"Good morning, Detective Beckett," he said, taking the seat beside her. "Nice to see you again."

"Mmhmm," Kate grunted noncommittally, carefully avoiding the writer's gaze.

"I have the paperwork that you needed, Captain," Castle said, reaching into the folder he'd carried into the office and pulling out a stack of papers. "Completed, signed, and notarized."

"I'm impressed," Montgomery said, giving an approving glance at the stack of papers Castle placed on his desk. "You must be very eager to shadow Detective Beckett."

"Yes, sir! Even though it's not quite what I was imagining, shadowing her while she's on desk…"

"You know, Mr. Castle, I thought we'd come to an agreement yesterday," Kate interrupted, stopping him before he could get her into trouble.

"Ah, well," Castle started hesitantly, scratching his chin. "The paperwork was already complete, and like I said yesterday, there's a lot I can learn from you. Even if we are just sitting at your..."

"Castle, I told you already, you can't have your own desk," Kate interjected firmly, voice pitched higher than usual as she scrambled to head him off before he inadvertently exposed her lie. "You're not an NYPD employee. You can have a chair beside mine. That way, we can work together at my desk when we aren't out in the field for a case," she added, flashing him a pleading look for silence as Montgomery busied himself in flipping through the documents.

"Oh, right," Castle said, eyes widening in understanding. "I, uh… I guess I'll need a chair, then." He kept his eyes carefully trained on Kate's, and she could see the genuine sympathy written into them.

The ringing of Montgomery's desk phone put a halt to their conversation, and the Captain reached out to grab the receiver and bring it to his ear. Even though he was momentarily engaged, Kate knew that he wasn't _that_ distracted. He would notice anything strange and immediately question her about it once the call ended. Even so, she took the risk of another significant look towards Castle, pleading wordlessly that he remain silent and not blow her cover.

An explanation would come once they made it out of earshot of a boss who still didn't know she was pregnant.

"We'll find you a chair, Mr. Castle,'" Montgomery said, hanging up the receiver. "But in the meantime, you have a scene to work. There's a body out near the High Line, and since your paperwork is complete, this is your first case with Detective Beckett."

Castle looked over at Kate, an excited grin lighting up his face. "Our first case!" he said joyfully, rising from his seat.

Kate rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

The silence on their walk from Montgomery's office to the elevator was damning. Not only was Beckett refusing to look at him, she'd closed the captain's door with such force that it had rattled the windows marking the barrier between the bullpen and Montgomery's office, leaving several uniforms glancing up from their various jobs to see what the commotion was all about.

Other than snapping an address at two men that Castle presumed were fellow detectives, she didn't speak a word, hustling out of the bullpen towards an elevator that he had to slip into sideways to hitch the same ride as his new official muse.

"Why didn't you..." Castle started. He was careful with the question, aware of the tense line of her shoulders and the way her eyes stayed carefully trained on the floor.

"Not here," she sighed as the elevator doors reopened, darting into the building's lobby with the same rapid pace which she'd exited the bullpen. That alone was a marvel, given the four inch heels that were clacking over the tiles and out the front door. _How exactly could she walk so fast in heels that high?_

By the time he scurried out the front door behind her, Beckett was already yanking the door of her cruiser open, seatbelt on and ignition started before he'd even managed to open the passenger door. Castle didn't waste any time, jumping into the front seat and barely managing to secure the door closed as she tore off into city traffic.

She was angry, and he'd expected that. But being _this_ angry? That was a surprise. Still, he had questions, important questions that couldn't wait, and they were in the car now, away from the prying ears that he assumed had been the reason for her silence.

Well, one of the reasons.

"I thought you were supposed to be on desk duty," Castle started, quickly buckling his seatbelt.

"And I thought you weren't supposed to show up at the precinct today," she retorted, clenching her fists tighter around the steering wheel.

"Okay, fair enough," Castle conceded. "But everything was already settled, and…"

"That doesn't matter, Castle! I told you not to come," she snapped. "Why did you show up when I specifically told you not to?"

"Why didn't you tell Captain Montgomery that you're pregnant?" Castle asked softly, hoping for honesty rather than the brittle anger she seemed hell-bent on throwing at him.

Kate inhaled sharply and paused for a moment, pressing her lips together nervously. Finally, her grip eased on the steering wheel, and a slow exhale of air released the tension in her shoulders, the fight gone from her body. "I got scared, okay?" she said quietly, keeping her eyes focused on the traffic in front of her.

No other explanation came from her, and the silence hung heavy between them for a couple of blocks. By the next red light, Castle couldn't stand the silence any longer, and he let his curiosity win.

"What are you scared of?" he asked.

She sighed. "I'll tell you what I'm scared of if you tell me why you showed up today," she said matter-of-factly.

Apparently, this was how things were going to work with Beckett- she wouldn't give up any information until she got something from him in return. Her calm demeanor didn't fool Castle, though. He had a feeling she was trying to distract him, deflecting attention from herself to avoid answering his questions.

"Because you're tall," he finally offered, smiling at the light joke before adopting a more serious expression. "Honestly, I needed a detective to shadow for my books, and you are the best homicide detective in the city. I want to get a real look at the NYPD, and I can only do that with the best the department has to offer."

Her cheeks instantly flushed, and she pursed her lips together in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the grin that was creeping onto her face. "Can't let all those readers down, huh?" Beckett asked, running a hand through her hair.

"Absolutely not," Castle answered. "Have you read my books? I have a certain reputation to uphold. Readers expect the best—"

"I've seen them around," she interrupted, scratching absently at a spot just below her ear as a light blush turned her cheeks a delicate shade of pink.

"You know, forgetfulness is one of the hallmarks of pregnancy," Castle joked, picking up on the way she'd suddenly begun to fidget; fingers tapping at the steering wheel, eyes focused anywhere but at the pointed glance he was giving her. The blush was the most telltale of all; the thing that had him convinced as to just how familiar Kate Beckett might be with his novels.

Kate rolled her eyes, giving a small shake of her head at the ridiculousness of his joke. And then she fell silent, her fingers again gripping tight against the leather of the steering wheel. Whatever amusement she'd gotten from his teasing slowly faded from her face. Now, she was tense, almost reflective, battling with some internal decision that Castle wasn't privy to.

"Questions," she suddenly murmured, her brow furrowing. "That's what I'm scared of. I'm not ready for all the questions."

Her openness was surprising, considering that just a few moments ago, she'd been cagey, unwilling to admit anything to him. He flashed her a reassuring smile, wordlessly thanking her for her honesty. He had a feeling there was more to it than just that, though.

"Are you just scared of questions, or of people's reactions, too?" Castle asked, studying her carefully.

She laughed nervously, but gave no other answer, too busy navigating the final intersection of their trip. Kate eased her cruiser into the space behind a marked NYPD police car, shifting the gear into park. Just up the block, the yellow crime scene tape flapped in the light breeze, stretched tight across the entrance to the alley with two uniforms stationed on either side to shoo away curious bystanders and media.

"Yes," she finally murmured, removing the keys from the ignition. "I am."

"You shouldn't be afraid of reactions," Castle said gently. "Who you are hasn't changed. You're still the same person you've always been. And I, for one, think you seem pretty great."

This time, she couldn't keep the grin from appearing on her face. "Thanks. But I'm still mad at you, you know," she added without malice, busying herself in digging through the center console until she came up with the NYPD placard and slapped it onto the dashboard. "The crime scene is just through that alley," she said, gesturing out the window.

The latex gloves dropped into his lap a moment later, baby blue and smelling faintly of having spent a fair amount of time in a hot car. "Put those on. You can't enter a crime scene without them," Kate instructed as she opened her door, climbing out of the car.

He quickly moved towards his own door, popping it open and jumping onto the curb to follow Beckett, all the while fighting with the gloves that didn't quite seem made to fit his large hands. But he'd make do. He had his first crime scene to work.

* * *

The young woman's body was tucked at the end of the alleyway, pushed up against the brick wall. Chelsea was a nice neighborhood, but crime, more specifically murder, didn't discriminate. This particular block was close enough to the docks to attractive some of the less desirable aspects of society, and this morning their victim was proof of that fact. The single gunshot wound to her chest was no longer bleeding, and her unseeing blue eyes were open, frozen in the shock of her last moments.

As Kate stared at the victim, her stomach began to twist into knots. She'd seen wounds significantly worse than this, but this one was causing her body to react in ways it never had before. The bullet hole in the woman's chest, although small, seemed gaping, and the combination of rotting flesh and the release of the bodily fluids that accompanied death were assaulting her nose, making her feel like she was a breath away from throwing up.

"Yep, she's dead," Castle announced, joining her beside the body.

Kate stared at him for a moment before finally rolling her eyes, not bothering to acknowledge his comment. "What do we have, Lanie?" she called.

"Abigail Burns, age 27. Single GSW to the chest. Her purse was beside the body with the wallet, credit cards, and ID still inside, so it definitely wasn't a random mugging," the M.E. answered, brushing a gloved hand across the victim's blonde hair.

"When did she die?" Castle asked, staring at the body.

"Hey, I know you," Lanie said slowly, eyes lighting up as she looked at Castle for the first time. "You're Richard Castle! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I-" Castle started.

"He's… shadowing me," Kate answered, ignoring the proud grin on Castle's face at hearing her admit it out loud. "For a book."

"Lanie Parish, Medical Examiner," she said reverently, snapping off a glove to extend her hand to the writer. "I _love_ your books. You know, you have a real gift with the details of death, and…"

"How long ago did Abigail die?" Kate interrupted, a hint of annoyance in her voice. This wasn't the time for her best friend to be fangirling over her new shadow.

"Based on lividity, looks like it was about two days ago," Lanie answered, still looking at Castle with awe.

"Two days ago? That had to be near her wedding anniversary," Castle mused.

Kate whirled around and stared at him. "You know her?"

"Well, not exactly," Castle responded, studying the victim's face carefully. "I never knew her name. But I did a lot of writing for _Derrick Storm_ in a coffee shop not too far from here—it was easier to focus. I did most of my planning for the new book there, as well," he added with a shrug. "Anyway, she was usually there. Sat in the booth next to me most days. She was alone most of the time, and almost always talking on the phone."

"And of course, you listened," Kate interjected, reaching up to wipe at the thin layer of sweat that was beginning to form on her brow with the back of her hand. Her stomach gave a churn of protest, and her brain finally began to put the pieces together. The blood, the bloated stench of decay, and the rotting flesh were doing a number on a body now hypersensitive to smell. It was overwhelming. If she didn't leave soon, she was going to be sick.

"I'm a writer; I like stories." Castle answered simply. "Anyway," he continued, gesturing toward the body, "Abigail was having a lot of problems with her husband. I don't know who she was talking to on the phone every day, but she was always discussing the horrible things her husband was doing. She said several times that she wanted a restraining order and a divorce. I think the husband was abusive. Whatever the case, she was terrified of him."

"Did she ever say how long these problems had been going on?" Kate asked, her voice pitched low with the strain of fighting off a sharp wave of nausea, even as her stomach continued to roll in protest. Judging from the slight narrowing of Castle's eyes and the small tilt of his head in her direction, he had already picked up on the shift in her demeanor.

Still, the writer shook his head no, giving his unexpected insight into the case a dead end.

Kate soldiered on, straightening her shoulders as she did her best to ignore her body and its warning signals. "Then why kill her now?" she mused. "What changed?"

"The day before I left for my book tour in LA, she told whoever she was on the phone with that she was planning on telling her husband about filing for divorce on their wedding anniversary," Castle said. "I don't know what happened after that."

"He must have figured out that she was planning to leave him. A potentially abusive husband thrives on control, and might not accept that he's losing his wife very well," Kate said. "I'll get Ryan and Esposito to track him down. We should… uh… get her phone records, too..." she trailed off, that lingering feeling of sickness now becoming a full-fledged problem.

"I'll just go let the boys know," she murmured, avoiding meeting Lanie's curious gaze as she hurried away from the crime scene. As soon as she was out of the alley, back on the sidewalk, she stumbled over to the nearest trash can and vomited.

 _Great. Morning sickness._

Kate closed her eyes, breathing heavily as she worked to steady herself. Another wave of nausea quickly swept over her, and she gripped the edges of the trash can harder, forcing herself to continue taking deep breaths in an attempt to ward off further sickness. Faintly, she heard someone calling her name, but she ignored it, continuing to breathe deeply.

After a moment, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Kate," he said gently. "Hey, it's okay."

"I'm fine, Castle," she muttered, letting out one long breath as she pushed herself upright.

"No, you're not," he said, securing one hand at her elbow and slowly steering Kate towards a nearby bench to take a seat. "Don't stand up until you feel better. If you move too quickly, you'll get dizzy."

"Castle…" she started, already moving to stand in those ridiculous heels, despite still feeling shaky. "The others… they can't know… I have to…"

"The other two detectives showed up right after you left. Lanie wanted to come check on you, but I told her you had a headache. She's briefing the others on the victim. I've got your back. No one else is going to know about this," he finished, taking his hand off of her arm. "Not until you want them to know."

She exhaled slowly, relieved. "Thanks," she murmured, burying her face in her hands.

"Is this the first time you've been sick?" Castle asked. Kate nodded slowly, sucking down another deep breath.

"We need to get you out of here," Castle said, voice firm with the decision. "Being around all these smells is only making it worse. As soon as you feel like you can stand up, we'll go back to your car," he said, gesturing at the cruiser parked a few yards from their bench.

"But the crime scene…" she protested quietly, raising her head to meet his eyes.

"The other two detectives are here," he answered with a shrug. "Ryan and… Espresso?"

"Esposito," she corrected, the corners of her mouth twitching with the urge to smile. It took a minute, but the grin finally won, a flash of white teeth his reward for the mix-up of the detective's last name.

"Ah, right," Castle said, grinning in return. "Well, I'm sure they are capable of taking care of things. You need to take care of you, though. You aren't going to do anyone any favors if you try to take on too much. Pregnancy is a difficult thing. It wasn't easy for my ex-wife, and my mother tells me I was a nightmare to bring into the world."

Kate exhaled and sat up slowly. "I didn't know you had a kid," she said, looking at Castle with curiosity.

"Yep," Castle answered, smiling proudly. "Alexis. She's 17, and she's incredible. I don't know what I'd do without her. I've basically raised her entirely on my own since she was born," he sighed, the smile fading from his face. "And it wasn't always easy; I'm not going to lie. But she's my life."

His hand moved toward Kate's, almost as if he were about to take it in his, but he stopped, pulling it back suddenly. "You're going to be a great mom," he said quietly, smiling with reassurance.

His quiet confidence in her, despite only having known her for a day, brought tears to Kate's eyes. She rarely cried—it had to be the hormones causing the tears to spring up so easily the past few days. She still wasn't positive that she'd be able to raise this baby on her own, and adoption was still her best option at this point. But if Castle had raised a child entirely on his own, maybe she could, too.

"I think I'm ready to go," Kate said quickly, blinking back the tears before Castle could notice them. "Let's go back to the precinct and run Abigail's phone records. It should be fairly easy to figure out who she was talking to."

"Sounds like a plan," he replied, extending an arm for Kate to use to haul herself up. Though she couldn't know it, Castle's intention had been to also help her to the car, ensuring that the detective didn't topple over with the after effect of her morning sickness. But she ignored the gesture, standing on her own power for a slow, wobbly walk back to her car.

"Hey, you still look a little rough. You want me to drive?" Castle offered, presenting his best reassuring, trustworthy smile.

Kate's assessment of him was a cool glance, a light scoff, and another eye roll that was beginning to look like her signature response to most of the things he said. "Maybe when I'm President," she said coolly, lips pursed in that half-smile that she always tried to hide as she opened the car door, sliding back behind the driver's seat.

* * *

"The husband did it? Really?" Castle asked, lips twisted in disappointment and eyes flashing skepticism from the moment she stepped out of the interrogation room. The look wasn't that unfamiliar—he'd worn a similar look when Kate had informed him that, for now, he couldn't follow her into interrogation. Instead, her new shadow had stepped into the observation room, and Kate had been presented with the much needed gifts of distance and silence from the writer.

"Yep," she replied, eyes focused on the door of the room she'd just vacated. Two uniforms escorted Abigail Burns' husband through it and down the hall towards holding, where he'd be processed for murder charges.

It hadn't taken long for Martin Burns to confess. She'd laid out the evidence neatly; drawing him in with the story of how they'd ran phone records, talked to his wife's confidant and gotten all the dirty details on their marriage and his abusive tendencies. Bank records and purchases on a new credit card in Abigail's name, including a plane ticket to North Dakota for the day that she'd died, had validated the fact she was leaving her husband.

"That bitch deserved it, too," he had spit at Kate across the table. "She thinks she can just leave me? On our wedding anniversary? Absolutely not! No one leaves without my permission." He'd still been growling about his wife when Kate had left the room, and from the looks of it, he was still jawing at the officers tasked with putting the man into processing.

"But that's so... boring," Castle said, heaving out a sigh colored with disappointment. "So predictable."

"Well, that's homicide for you," Kate said. "Generally, if we find a guy standing over a body with a gun, he's usually the guy who did it."

Castle shook his head slowly. "I'd hoped for better for my first case. What if—" he started, his eyes lighting up. "What if it wasn't Martin after all? Maybe it was the friend on the phone all along. See, Abigail didn't know it," he continued, pacing back and forth in his excitement, "but the friend that she thought she could trust was secretly in cohorts with Martin all along…"

"Except you're forgetting that Abigail's friend Marissa lives in North Dakota and was home at the time of the murder," Beckett interrupted, sighing, "and that we found Martin's handgun at his apartment. Ballistics is certain that it will be a match to the gun that killed Abigail once they're done running tests. Nice try, Castle, but it was Martin."

He was silent for a minute, staring aimlessly at the door to interrogation before giving a slow nod. "At least we got justice for Abigail," he finally said, eyes lighting up as he turned to face Kate. "Well, what now?" he asked.

"Paperwork," Kate said matter-of-factly, turning to walk back to the bullpen. "Lots of paperwork."

"You have to do that tonight?" Castle asked, following her. "It's already five o'clock."

Kate sighed. "Normally, I would go ahead and start tonight, but…" she trailed off.

"Not feeling well?" Castle asked quietly as they entered the bullpen.

She shook her head slowly, pressing her lips together tightly. "I'm just tired," she murmured, making her way to her desk. She sank down in her desk chair, closing her eyes and raking her fingers through her hair. Today had been moderately easy, but the shock of adrenaline from finding out she was pregnant had finally worn off, and her lack of sleep was catching up with her. Exhaustion had finally set in.

"Look, Detective Beckett!" Castle said, his voice pitched high in excitement. Kate glanced up to find him standing proudly beside her desk, a beaming smile on his face as he pointed at the chair shoved up against the edge of her work space. It wasn't anything to really be excited over; just a simple chair with dark yellow cushions.

"I have a chair!" he exclaimed, that wide grin still in place as he took a seat.

Kate shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes at Castle's excitement. "And with that, I'm going home," she said, opening her bottom desk drawer and pulling out her purse. "See you, Castle." Getting to her feet, she paused to push her own chair back towards her desk.

"Beckett," he called, stopping her as she stepped past his chair. In one fluid movement, Castle jumped up to present her with a purple gift bag that she could only assume had been hiding somewhere under her desk. He also pulled out a card from his jacket with a flourish, 'DETECTIVE BECKETT' written on the front in neat block print.

"I got you something when I went to lunch today," he said. "As a thank you for letting me shadow you."

"I didn't really have a choice," Kate said, instantly realizing how the words must have come across when Castle raised his eyebrows in surprise. "But thank you," she quickly added. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to," he said, smiling. "And hey," he added, dropping his voice. "Let me know if you need me to be there when you tell Captain Montgomery."

Kate pressed her lips together, silently nodding her thanks, and Castle grinned, waving goodbye as he turned to leave the bullpen. Kate watched him as he walked down the hallway, stepping onto the waiting elevator with a swagger and confidence surely born of his successful gift delivery. Once the doors had closed, she settled into the writer's chair, gently tugging out the pieces of tissue paper to get to whatever he'd placed inside. Of the items she might have put on a list, a can of ginger ale wouldn't have been on it, and Kate frowned at the odd present. Still, she placed it on her desk beside the card.

The card. She'd completely forgotten about it. Kate picked the envelope up, sliding her finger underneath the flap and pulling it out.

" _Just a little something to get you through the day,_ " the message read in the same blocked print. " _Ginger ale will help settle your stomach. And wear these any time. They'll help prevent nausea. If you're wearing long sleeves, no one will notice_."

The scrawling signature at the bottom of the card was familiar; the same signature she had in one of the many Richard Castle books that she owned. She'd attended a signing once, standing in line for hours to meet her favorite author which, now, was a story she'd never tell. His ego was big enough already.

With a smile, Kate set the card aside, reaching back into the bag for the final part of the gift. The motion sickness wrist bands were familiar, if only because a specific writer had alerted her to them and their usefulness long before he'd known the truth.

It seemed that the man was determined to take care of her. With anyone else it would be annoying—hell, it had been annoying at first when Castle had started. But she was starting to realize that she didn't mind it at all.


	3. Chapter 3

The changes were subtle, but they were there.

Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, Kate tilted her head, her eyes giving a critical examination of her underwear-clad body. It had been only two weeks since she learned she was pregnant, but the changes had already begun. While imperceptible to anyone but her, she had been quietly cataloging the shifts. For one, her breasts had grown large enough that all of her regular bras could barely contain them. The other issue, and the more worrying of the two, was her stomach.

A few weeks ago it had been flat and firm, but already the muscles of her abs had seemed to soften. It was due to hormone changes- she had done enough research to learn that much- and it was the first step in a line of preparations her body would make to get ready for giving birth. It seemed crazy that such a tiny fetus would already cause her pants to fit tighter, but that was yet another item on her growing list of changes. It wouldn't be too long before her friends and family would figure out what was going on.

With a sigh, Kate abandoned her examination in the mirror, walking towards her closet for a new deliberation of what to wear. For now, everything hanging in her closet still fit, but the time was coming where she'd essentially need a new wardrobe. She selected a pair of khaki slacks that usually had room to spare, sliding them off the hanger as her phone began to ring.

Hurrying from the closet with the pants in one hand, she scooped the phone up from her bed, thumb sliding across the screen to accept the call from the precinct's dispatcher.

"Beckett," she spoke into the phone, wedging it between her shoulder and cheek. For the moment the pants had to be discarded on the bed, both hands needed to locate the pen and notebook kept by her bedside for moments exactly like this, "Uh-huh, and CSU is already on the way?" Kate asked, scribbling a SoHo address onto the pad. "Great. I'll be there in twenty."

Another day, another dead body. Time to call Castle.

Well, maybe after she put her pants on.

* * *

"That's not your weapon," Lanie said, hardly glancing at the four inch stiletto blade Kate was holding.

The knife had been found in a car belonging to Trucho, their current suspect. She and Castle had found the man being beaten up inside of an Irish bar, and when they realized he wasn't a member of the Westies, they'd brought him in for questioning. All the signs pointed toward Trucho being their killer, and when Ryan and Esposito had brought in the man's knife, Kate had been certain that the man's fate was sealed. At least before the medical examiner had entered the equation.

"You didn't even look," Kate accused.

"Sure I did. And I'm telling you that blade is way too small to make these wounds," Lanie said, gesturing toward Jack Coonan's body on the table. "This Trucho guy, how tall is he?"

"About five foot six," Kate replied, dropping the evidence bag containing the knife on the table beside Coonan's left shoulder.

"Then he's not your guy," Lanie said with authority, glancing from Kate to the body and pointing towards the scars scattered across the torso. "The angle on these wounds indicates that the killer was over six feet tall."

"Well, maybe instead of using a stiletto, he was wearing stilettos," Castle said from his perch, leaning against the concrete block wall.

Lanie met Kate's eyes with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Kate just shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes. In times like these, it was better not to encourage him.

The Imperial March from "Star Wars" began to hum from the writer's pocket as the two women had their silent standoff. But Kate could see him out of the corner of her eye tugging the phone from his pocket, and he sighed. "It's my publisher," he explained. "I should take this. She's been trying to talk to me for days. Excuse me for a moment."

With that said, Castle made a quick exit, phone already pressed to his ear. "Gina, are you calling as my blood-sucking publisher or my blood-sucking ex-wife?"

Castle's greeting shared and the morgue's double doors finally ending their pendulum swing, Kate turned back towards Lanie. "So are you sure Trucho isn't the guy?" she asked again, her full attention towards the medical examiner.

"Positive," Lanie said, raising her eyebrows as she looked at Kate. "But while you're here, you and I need to have a little chat. Sit," she commanded, gesturing at a chair a few feet away from the table.

From the tone of her best friend's voice, Kate knew the moment had come to confess. For two weeks she had avoided questions, with no shortage of help from Castle. They'd used every excuse in the book, from a forgotten badge to a bout of food poisoning, to deflect and distract from the fact she'd routinely began fleeing crime scenes when the sights and the smells became too much. Not that it had stopped there, though. A few days ago, she'd had to leave the morgue for the same reason, and without any attempt at an excuse for the hasty exit.

If Lanie hadn't already been suspicious, sending Ryan and Esposito to follow up on the forensics the next day had been more than enough to tip her off that something was going on. Kate couldn't even remember what excuse she'd handed the boys to deliver; maybe something about witness interviews and showing Castle that side of an investigation.

Exhaling slowly, she took her appointed seat without a word of argument as Lanie slipped off her latex gloves, tossing them into the trash can.

"There's something going on with you," Lanie said, sliding across the floor in the rolling chair that usually sat at one of the computers in the morgue until she was next to Kate. "I don't know what it is, but I'm worried about you."

"Lanie, I'm fine…" Kate started with a sigh, brain already churning for some excuse that might further delay the inevitable.

"Don't you lie to me, girl," Lanie said, eyes going wide with her no-nonsense approach. Her friend even added a finger point for extra effect. "Running from crime scenes? Avoiding coming to the morgue? That's not like you. So what's going on?"

Kate pressed her lips together, averting her eyes to her lap.

Lanie sighed, studying Kate carefully. "Something's different about you, but I just can't put my finger on it. You just have this glow…" she trailed off, mouth screwed up in a thin line while she tried to work out the problem.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were pregnant," she blurted, a small chuckle following the words that filled Kate with both shock and surprise.

"How did you…" she whispered, head snapping up to stare at her friend.

The change in Lanie was immediate; eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh my God, you are?" Kate nodded slowly, tensing her shoulders as she took a shaky breath.

"You're pregnant! Oh, Kate! I'm so happy for you," Lanie exclaimed, jumping to her feet to throw her arms around Kate in a hug.

The moment she felt Lanie's arms wrapped around her body, Kate let out a sigh of relief. Tears weren't new, not after two weeks of stress and hormone swings, but the group of them pricking at her eyes now wasn't brought on by either of those things. These waterworks were caused by some of the weight finally lifting off her chest, having shared her biggest secret with someone she had known for years and getting a positive reaction. Kate had been so worried about the reactions of her friends and family, but Lanie wasn't upset at all. Maybe telling people wouldn't be so bad.

A few seconds after that conclusion, the bubble of happiness seemed to pop. Lanie was still touching her, both hands resting lightly on Kate's shoulders, but her friend had taken a step backwards and that critical look was back on her face. Before she added another word, Lanie's wheels were already spinning.

"I thought you and Josh broke up," she said carefully, an obvious effort to keep her voice neutral and unassuming.

"We did," Kate sighed. "Several months ago, before he left for Haiti. It's… complicated," she trailed off, unsure as to whether or not she wanted to tell her friend the full truth quite yet.

"Okay," Lanie replied, confusion evident in the way she held on to the vowel a little longer than necessary. "How far along are you?"

"I don't know. I haven't been to the doctor yet. I just found out two weeks ago, and…"

"Hold on," Lanie interrupted, instantly taking her hands off of Kate's shoulders. "You mean to tell me that you've known for two weeks, and you're still working in the field? Kate Beckett, do you realize how dangerous that is? If something were to happen…"

"Yes, Lanie, I know," Kate said, annoyance creeping into her voice, even though it wasn't her intention to put that particular emotion on display. But her friend had struck a nerve with her well-intentioned bluntness.

"You know?" Lanie asked, eyebrows arched up in skepticism, "If you know, then why the hell are you still out there, putting yourself and your baby in danger?"

Kate had never seen her friend so angry. Lanie's face was turning red, her eyes hardened, and she was growing increasingly louder with each word she spoke. Kate knew that her friend was right - she was risking more than just her own life. But fear had kept her from exposing her secret so far, and in a way, it still was. Telling Lanie and Castle was different than telling Montgomery and the boys.

"Lanie, I…" she started, her explanation interrupted by the ring of her phone. With a frustrated sigh, Kate pulled the device out of her pocket, pointedly ignoring Lanie's look of disapproval as she accepted the call and brought the phone up to her ear. "Beckett."

The police tech on the other end of the phone was quick with his information; a simple explanation that Jack Coonan's phone had been processed by the division and there was something she needed to see immediately. Even if the murder weapon, and a prime suspect, were still unanswered questions, this was a new avenue to explore that might lead her team to an answer. She couldn't just let it go.

"Okay, thank you. I'll be right there," Kate replied to the tech, hanging up the phone and standing to her full height, despite Lanie's disgruntled huff, "Lanie, look..."

"Nuh uh, Kate Beckett. You are making a terrible decision. What you need to do is turn this case over to Ryan and Esposito, 'fess up to Montgomery, and prioritize the safety of yourself and this baby," Lanie said, turning her back onto Kate in favor of returning to Coonan's body. "And deep down, I think you know that. You're just too stubborn to ask for help."

Lanie snapped a fresh pair of latex gloves over her hands as Kate gathered her jacket, shuffling only two steps towards the door before she spotted Castle, standing back in his former lounging position next to the double doors.

He had that look on his face again- the one that said he heard all the important details and was just dying to hash them out with her. And if she were honest, Kate figured it was probably a fair assumption to think that he was waiting to sing out an 'I told you so' regarding the medical examiner, who was staring with such intent focus at one of Coonan's wounds that Kate couldn't decide if it was an avoidance technique or simply Lanie being _that_ absorbed in her work.

With a sigh, Kate stepped past Castle and out the doors of the morgue, surprised when her shadow followed without a comment or a quip all the way back to her car.

* * *

After two weeks of shadowing Beckett, Rick thought things were going well overall. It was the second day of his third case, and he could already measure the improvement of his relationship with Beckett in the smaller interactions they shared. This morning in the car, she had laughed with him and cracked a joke, which was far different than the usual snippy conversations. She had even stopped rolling her eyes when he presented her with ginger ale every morning, although it was carefully disguised in a travel coffee cup.

But even though Kate was warming up to his constant presence, Ryan and Esposito still seemed wary. The two detectives were always quick to dismiss his ideas, including a theory he posed yesterday about how a ninja assassin had killed Coonan by scaling the outside of the man's apartment building and climbing in through the living room window.

It wasn't all bad, though. He and Esposito had shared what Castle had decided to call a "bonding moment" over the Johnny Vong DVD, poking fun at Ryan and his gullibility towards the infomercial's promise of riches simply by sending $49.95 (plus shipping and handling) and following the 12 steps to success.

If you completed the program, you could also be the owner of a 45-foot yacht. _I own a boat_ , indeed.

Making leeway with Ryan and Esposito was going to take time, and it was made even more difficult with their fearless leader always disappearing. He had only noticed Kate's absence at the crime scene yesterday when Ryan had quickly dropped the DVD cover back onto the table to put an end to the light teasing. Truthfully, it was the missing quip from Beckett that had highlighted the lack of her presence, and the boys had hopped on it by questioning Lanie.

Lanie hadn't known where Kate had gone, and when she'd posed the question to Castle, he'd been forced to stumble out some other half-thought excuse for her. The raised eyebrows and knowing glances had been enough to tell him they hadn't bought it, though no one had pressed the issue.

But even now, Rick could feel the stares from the two men as he and Beckett sat at her desk. The detectives were across at the murder board, supposedly batting around ideas for the case, but given the suspicious glances and the occasional whispers they were sharing with one another, Rick was willing to bet that not a lot of investigating was being done.

"Whoever Vong is working for scares him a lot more than prison," Beckett sighed, tossing her pen onto the desk blotter and forcing him to abandon his study of the other two detectives.

"There has to be a way to get it out of him," Castle commented, aware of how unmotivated and distracted he sounded. "Maybe we could force him to…"

"Yo, Beckett," Esposito interrupted, taking long strides towards her desk and planting his feet as if preparing for a fight. The sight of his arms folded across his chest only added to the effect. "Where did you disappear to this morning?"

"You just left the crime scene and never came back," Ryan added, following his partner across the room and taking a less aggressive stance beside his fellow detective.

Kate stiffened, refusing to let her emotions show. "I wasn't feeling well," she said with a shrug. "That was a lot of blood. I just felt sick."

"But that sort of thing never used to bother you," Esposito commented, raising his eyebrows.

"And this is the third crime scene in a row that you've 'gotten sick,'" Ryan said, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers on the last two words. "What's going on, Beckett?"

Rick watched as Kate bit her lip nervously, taking a shaky breath. For a moment he thought she would confess, laying it all out for the boys much like she had with Lanie in the morgue. But then the medical examiner herself stepped off the elevator, distracting all of them with her unusual presence in the bullpen.

"Beckett," Lanie called, looking grave as she gestured towards the middle aged man standing with her. "This is Dr. Clark Murray. He's a forensic pathologist, and I asked him to consult on the Coonan case."

"Hello, Dr. Murray," Kate said, pushing her chair away from her desk to stand and shake the man's hand, "Let's go into the conference room," she added, gesturing for everyone to follow her down the hallway.

Castle fell in line behind Lanie and the other doctor, the former of whom was still brittle with irritation at Beckett. Her frustration radiated from the slope of her shoulders to the swing of her arms as the six of them passed through the door and arranged themselves around the table.

Lanie's choice of a chair, the one to the left of Kate, was perhaps the most telling of the tableau that had naturally arranged itself. The medical examiner looked worn out, wrung dry by some revelation that went far deeper than a disagreement about Kate and her unborn child's personal safety. A glance at Ryan and Esposito was enough for Rick to realize that they had also read the emotional tension in the room, while Dr. Murray was too busy shuffling through his briefcase.

Castle couldn't shake the feeling that the world was about to tip sideways as Beckett took the seat at the head of the table, notepad in place and pen in hand to make notes on whatever their newest consultant had to say.

In the brief snatch of silence, he met Lanie's eyes, and his mouth immediately went dry. Whatever this was, it was very, very bad. He had never seen the medical examiner look so grim.

"What did you have to tell us, Dr. Murray?" Beckett asked. Rick couldn't tell if she was ignoring the tension in the room or just oblivious to it in the face of new information for the case.

The doctor had arranged papers and photos out in front of him, giving each a brief examination. "Dr. Parrish asked me to consult on this case after she discovered something interesting about the victim's wounds," he started, pulling a close-up picture of Coonan's torso from the top of the stack.

"Note the rectangular bruising around these wounds," he said, pointing at the unusual patterns around the wounds in the photo. "The bruises are caused by the hilt of the knife striking with enough force to compress the skin."

"And as a result, the injuries penetrate deeper than the actual length of the blade," Beckett surmised.

"Exactly," Murray confirmed. "Your killer has filed the blade down so that it is very fine, and brittle enough for bits to break when it strikes bone. That's why slivers of blade were found inside both of his victims," he finished, handing Kate a photo of an x-ray. "We now know that those slivers come from the same murder weapon."

"Wait, two victims?" Beckett asked. "How many people has he killed?"

"Five, that we know of," Lanie answered softly.

"So we're looking at a serial killer?" Ryan interjected.

"Well, yes and no," Dr. Murray answered, fingers spread wide across the remainder of photos and papers on the table. "We believe that we're dealing with a professional. Someone with extensive military training."

"So a contract killer?" Esposito asked.

Murray didn't answer the question, instead reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a clear bag. "I was able to create a 3D model of the blade used," he said, carefully pulling out a plastic knife from the bag and handing it to Beckett. "It's a special operations grip knife - the kind favored by special forces in the Gulf War."

"This man kills with a single blow," Murray said grimly, "using these other wounds to camouflage the skill with which the initial stroke was delivered."

The entire room seemed to hold its breath, attempting to hold on to the last moment before everything changed. Lanie had turned her head away from Kate altogether, eyes focused on the wood tabletop, while Ryan and Esposito were just staring at Dr. Murray, perplexed.

But Kate seemed to understand what Lanie and the doctor already knew, her hands trembling as they gripped the model of the knife.

"Detective Beckett, this was the very same method, and the very same weapon, that the killer employed twelve years ago," Murray said. "There is no doubt in my mind that Jack Coonan was killed by the same man who murdered your mother."

The questions that began to race through Rick's mind were instant. Why had a contract killer murdered Beckett's mother? Had the case never been solved? Why hadn't it been? Was this the reason she became a cop, to find justice for her mom?

The object of his questions was shaking again, her shoulders trembling slightly with the knife still gripped tight in her fist.

"Lanie," Kate whispered, turning slightly toward the medical examiner.

"I'm so sorry, Kate," Lanie answered, gently placing a hand on Beckett's arm.

The room fell silent. All six of the people at the table needed the silence in that moment, busy processing the new information. Beckett was the first to break, shoving her chair away from the table and dropping the plastic model of the knife onto the top of it.

And then she walked out without looking back.

* * *

It had been years since Kate had allowed herself to investigate her mother's case. She couldn't avoid thinking about it, even dwelling on it, but she had made an active attempt not to pursue leads. But here it was again, forcing itself on her in a way she could have never imagined. A very public way, at that.

Castle had known nothing; not even that her mother had died. Ryan and Esposito knew the components of the police file, but very little of the personal trials that had accompanied her mother's death. Lanie was the one she had told everything to, the one that she had asked to examine the forensics report to spot any inconsistencies, all those years ago. Her best friend had been able to spot the similarities between the cases.

Kate was still angry with Lanie. Angry and a little betrayed by the fact her friend hadn't come to her the moment she'd noticed something strange. Between that anger and the ongoing saga of her pregnancy, she was due for an explosion of sorts.

So she'd gone at her best friend, right in the middle of the bullpen. Predictably, Lanie hadn't taken it sitting down, yelling her own explanation of attempting to protect Kate until she had known for sure that her guess was correct.

Not that Kate cared, a fact that she'd shared to more than a few raised eyebrows and open mouths when that particular line had bounced through the homicide division. But it had been enough to end their fight, Lanie making a quick exit towards the elevator while the rest of the bullpen jumped back into their tasks, lest Kate turn some of that leftover ire on them for eavesdropping.

Rubbing absently at the space between her eyebrows, she forced lingering thoughts of Lanie to the back of her mind. This case, this connection, marked the first new lead in her mother's case in a decade. Kate was close to tracking the man down, close enough that she could taste it.

It was surreal how solving the Coonan case could also solve her mother's. Whoever had killed Jack Coonan was a contract killer, and once they caught him, they'd make him divulge who had hired him- not only for Jack's murder, but for her mother and, a little further on the priority list, the other three victims Dr. Murray had referenced.

The dizzy spell came suddenly, hitting in tandem with the overwhelming realization that this could be the break she had always needed. Leaning forward in her chair, Kate rested her elbows on the desk, allowing her head to drop into her hands for a moment to restore her equilibrium. She'd been feeling dizzy frequently lately—yet another annoying side effect of pregnancy.

The sound of Montgomery calling her name made her jump, and she quickly raised her head, finding the captain standing in the doorway of his office.

"May I have a word with you?" he asked, making the question seem rhetorical as he retreated from the doorway and back towards the desk in his office.

Heaving out a sigh, Kate took her time in standing, testing out the waters to make sure dizziness wouldn't cause her to stumble her way into a meeting with her Captain. Satisfied she could manage, she stepped into the office, shutting the door behind her.

Immediately, Montgomery pulled a small flask from his desk. "Poor man's painkiller," he said, offering it to her.

"Sir, I…" Kate started, staring at the flask. This was an impossible situation. If she declined it, the captain would certainly suspect that something was wrong, and she might have to admit her pregnancy now, and this wasn't a good time for that. Alcohol was detrimental to the baby growing inside of her. A small sip might not hurt, but Kate didn't want to risk it.

Montgomery gave her an expectant look, extending the flask out to her, and Kate finally took it from his outstretched hand. Twisting off the cap, she raised the flask to her lips, tilting her head back. She kept her lips pursed tightly together, only allowing the smallest amount of liquid possible to enter her mouth. With that minimal amount swallowed, she passed the flask back to the captain.

"I know your mother's murder was the reason you became a cop," Montgomery said, putting the flask back in his desk drawer. "You're the finest homicide detective I've ever trained, bar none. And I want you to stay on this one, if you can. But I wouldn't be doing my job as your captain if I didn't ask: can you handle this?"

The sympathy written into his eyes was genuine, and Kate was grateful that he was giving her a choice. As much as she wanted to be strong and help with this case, she had too many new feelings to sort through first. She couldn't take care of her mother's killer until she'd stabilized herself first.

"I'm sorry, sir," she whispered, swallowing thickly. "I can't."

"Fair enough," Montgomery replied, "How about you take a day or two away from here. Get some distance from this. When we've got something, we'll call you."

Kate nodded firmly, blinking back tears, and flung the office door open, carving a path straight to her desk with her emotions on a tether. She barely noticed Ryan, Esposito, and Castle standing by her desk, watching her with concern in their eyes as she grabbed her jacket, flinging it over her shoulder. The elevator had just arrived as Kate approached the end of the hallway, Castle's call of her name ringing in her ears. But she ignored him, pressing the lobby button and door close button simultaneously as tears blinded her vision.

She'd talk to Castle later. There was someone else she needed to talk to first.

* * *

The sound of his fingers flying over the keyboard kept him company. Castle was typing furiously, pounding out his emotions after a trying day shadowing Kate. Since they'd begun their arrangement, he'd scarcely had time to write more than a few sentences, but he'd been writing since the moment he had arrived home this afternoon. The words just kept coming, keeping his mind and his hands busy for almost four hours.

Rick hadn't even stopped for dinner. Alexis had finally brought him a plate a few minutes ago, insisting that he eat his food before it went cold. He had taken a few bites to satisfy her, and then abandoned it for the lure of more words.

His fictional detective was finally coming to life. It was terrible that the worst thing in Kate's life had been the catalyst for his inspirational surge of content, but the new knowledge had provided him with the last piece of her backstory that he had needed to give Nikki Heat her life on the page.

Two chapters were complete already, and the third had just opened with his detective and her pseudo-partner, Jameson Rook, visiting the office of Nikki's latest murder victim when the buzz of his doorbell halted his work. His mother wasn't home, and he wasn't expecting any visitors, and surely, Alexis would have told him if she had invited someone over, since she almost always did. He had no idea who could be at his door.

Saving the document and quickly closing his laptop, Castle hurried towards his front door, opening it with a bit of caution. Not that he expected a murderer to knock first, but you couldn't be too careful.

"Beckett!" he said, surprised to find her standing in the hallway. Her shoulders were bowed, and her eyes were red-rimmed, an obvious sign that she had been crying recently.

"Hey," she whispered hesitantly. "I, uh… I'm sorry I didn't call, but I…"

"No, no, it's okay," Castle reassured, gesturing into his living room as he swung the door open wide. "Come in."

She stepped into the loft cautiously, raising her head and looking around. "Wow," she murmured. "You have a nice place. I kind of feel like Alfred in the Batcave for the first time."

"Ah, a Batman fan, huh?" Castle asked. "It figures."

Kate stopped, turning to face him. "Why?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Similar backstories," Castle answered nonchalantly, shrugging. "You know, loss of a loved one, a life of fighting crime…"

He stopped when he noticed the immediate change his words had caused in her. Kate's shoulders had dropped even more, and her eyes were downcast, her chin quivering.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said gently, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine," she interrupted, a sniffle punctuating the end of her sentence. "That's actually why I'm here… can we talk?"

Castle nodded, removing his hand from her shoulder and gesturing towards the couch. She walked toward it, and he followed her, placing himself on the far end of the couch once Kate had chosen the side closest to the door. She didn't look like she planned to stay long, perching at the edge of the cushion with her back straight and her hands folded tightly in her lap.

"I was nineteen," she said quietly, studying her hands. "My parents and I were supposed to go to dinner together that night, and Mom was going to meet my dad and me at the restaurant once she got off work. But she never showed."

Closing her eyes, Kate took a deep, slow breath, as if she were trying to find some well of courage to explain the rest of the story. A few more heartbeats, a couple seconds of silence, and she opened her eyes again to look at him.

"Two hours later, we finally just went home, and there was a detective waiting for us at the front door. Detective Raglan. They… they found her body," she said, pressing her lips together. "She had been stabbed multiple times. She still had her money and purse and jewelry, and it wasn't a sexual assault, either. They attributed it to 'gang violence'... a random, wayward event." She paused, her face going hard with the knowledge that it was anything but. Her mother had been killed by a contract killer. Someone had wanted her dead and hired a man to do it. "They just packaged it up nicely, and the killer was never caught."

Beckett dropped her eyes to her lap, that momentary flare of anger burning out quickly to bring back the grieving young woman who still missed her mother. "My dad and I both took it hard," she explained. "He started drinking, and I poured my life into her case. We were both destroying ourselves."

The shrug she gave at the conclusion of her story was probably meant to be nonchalant, but it didn't really sell. Like a lot of things with Beckett, it was a coping mechanism, some sort of outer armor to both keep of the facade of this iron-willed detective and to keep everyone at arm's length from her true feelings. But she had tells, just like anyone else Castle had ever met. One of them happened to be the fidgeting of her right hand, smoothing over the face and tugging at the leather band of the watch she always wore.

A man's watch, at that.

"So why do you wear the watch?" Rick asked carefully, eyes flicking from the startled look she gave down towards her fingers.

"My dad finally got sober. He has been for seven years now. And when he agreed to try rehab again, I also agreed to stop investigating my mom's case and to move on with my life. I started wearing his watch as a way to keep him close while he was in rehab, and when he got out he told me to keep it," she replied, holding out her wrist to give him a better look at the timepiece. "So I wear his watch because he's the life I saved."

She reached under the neckline of her shirt, withdrawing a delicate chain between her thumb and forefinger. The diamond caught the light when Kate extended it towards him, and for a moment he thought that she was wearing some sort of pendant; at least until he recognized the round shape of the setting.

She was wearing a wedding ring on a chain around her neck. A very elegant, simple diamond.

"And this is for the life that I lost," Kate added, giving him a small, sad smile.

"When I left the precinct this afternoon, I went to go talk to my dad about all of this," she said, tucking the makeshift necklace back under her blouse. "I want to solve this case, but I don't know how to without losing myself again. Especially now that it's not just my life that I'd be destroying." Kate sighed, brushing her fingers across her stomach with a slight frown.

"And I told my dad about the baby," she added, looking up at Castle. "I told him everything."

"What did he say?" Castle asked.

She took a quick breath, her eyes roving up to look at the ceiling. "He was disappointed with me," she answered, quickly brushing at the newly-formed tears in her eyes. "The usual reaction you might expect from a father. He has every right to be disappointed with me. But he's happy," she said, a smile beginning to play at the corners of her lips. "He said he can't wait to be a grandpa."

With that said, Kate fell silent again, dropping her eyes back to her lap. Even with the admission that her father was excited about becoming a grandfather, a few more tears trailed down her cheeks, and she brushed them off with her thumb.

"So I guess the character you're basing on me has a tragic backstory now," she finally murmured, laughing nervously.

"Just like Bruce Wayne," Castle joked, attempting to lighten the mood with a quip that felt a little hollow under the circumstances. But Beckett seemed to appreciate his attempt at humor, giving a slow nod and that purse of her lips that he saw all too often at the precinct. If she was doing that, she was trying to hide a smile.

Sure enough, when he waited her out, the grin finally came. It was small and reluctant, but there nonetheless.

"Beckett," he started, seizing the moment of lightness and preventing a potential shift in topic, "I will do anything you need. Including nothing, if that's what you want."

"I want to solve this case. I want to find my mom's killer," she replied, squaring up her shoulders with that spark of determination that he hadn't seen since they walked into Jack Coonan's apartment yesterday morning. "And I want you to be there to help."

"Then we need to break Johnny Vong," Castle replied.

Kate grinned, pushing off the couch to bring herself to her full height. "So let's break him."

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** I know that the case I use in this chapter happened in season 2, and this is a late season 3 AU. I know. You don't have to tell me. I figured that since it's an AU already, I might as well alter the timeline a bit. :)_

 _Thank you all for reading. Your reviews mean a lot to me._


	4. Chapter 4

After eleven years, she finally had a name.

Rathborne.

The name was stuck in her mind, along with the image of some giant man dressed in black, a gleaming knife folded in his fist. Terrifying and ruthless- the type of guy who kills for sport and for money, with no regard to the life he's eliminating or for the other lives that the death will disrupt. At least four families- she couldn't in good conscience include a brother who callously ordered his own sibling's death- have been torn apart by the strike of his knife.

Her own personal connection to this man, along with the upheaval of Kate's own life, only made her all the more determined to find him. To hell with the risks, a guy _that_ destructive deserved to rot in jail.

The marked police car carrying Dick Coonan from his apartment to the precinct for his interrogation sat idle at an intersection, midday traffic cruising along the cross street as pedestrians scurried the length of their portion of the road to reach the safety of the sidewalk before the light changed. Calling for transport from a pair of uniforms had been unnecessary, but Kate couldn't find it in herself to regret the decision. Coonan was so repulsive to her in his words and actions that she had refused to take him in herself.

She'd needed the distance, the time to sit and digest the reality that she was so close to an answer about her mother's murder. Doing that with a man who had employed the hand that had ended her mom's life just wasn't in the cards.

But it was more than just Coonan and her mother. It was her fight with Lanie; the pregnancy; the fact that she'd lied to Montgomery. All of it was overwhelming and stressful, and the tide of emotion and constant change threatened to inundate her. She still hadn't accepted that she would be a mother in a few short months, and the resurrection of her mother's long buried case on the heels of the realization hadn't exactly served to foster positive feelings. There was a hole in her life, turned black with grief and guilt at Johanna Beckett's absence and the begrudging acceptance she'd managed to find at knowing she might never solve the case of her murder.

But here she was, so close to the biggest lead she or the original detective had ever found. Once she spent some time with Coonan in the box, he'd 'fess up as to who the hit man was, and then she'd find him, forcing him to admit who had put out a contract to kill her mother.

Dick Coonan was the only barrier between the truth to finding her mother's killer, and she was going to break him.

"Beckett."

At the sound of Castle's voice, Kate jumped, startled out of her own thoughts with a slight jerk of the steering wheel. "What?" she snapped, annoyed both at herself for her daze and at her passenger for scaring her.

"You know your death grip on the steering wheel won't help us get there any faster," he shrugged.

At the back of her jaw, her two rows of teeth clamped against one another in annoyance. "This is not the time for jokes," she growled, ignoring the realization that Castle was right. She was holding onto the wheel so tightly that her knuckles had blanched white at the joints. Not that Kate immediately let go, though- she kept her grip stationary until the writer glanced out the window, and then slowly eased their tight hold from the leather.

"I'm just trying to help," Castle sighed, turning his eyes from the passing scenery look back at her. "I know how hard this must be for you, but you've got to relax. It's not good for the baby for you to be this tense."

He was right, again, and she knew it. With a sigh, Kate allowed her shoulders to drop with a long exhale of breath to drain the tension from her body. "I know," she murmured.

Silence settled between them again, and the next few blocks passed by with neither speaking. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate could see Castle studying her, but she ignored him, keeping her eyes carefully trained on the road in front of her. She could almost see the wheels in his mind churning, calculating something.

"Hey, Beckett," he finally said, turning to face her. "I have an idea."

"What is it?" she asked, voice weary and dubious. Castle was a good guy to have around most of the time, but she'd learned that some of his spontaneous ideas weren't always the best.

"Turn left at the next intersection, and I'll show you," he answered simply.

"Castle, the precinct is two blocks ahead," Kate said. "I have an interrogation to do and a killer to locate. I'm not turning left. ."

"This will take fifteen minutes, tops," Castle said. "They can wait. And I promise, you're not going to regret this."

"Castle…"

"Trust me, Beckett," he said softly, a gentle smile on his face.

She wanted to, more out of curiosity than anything, but the police car in front of them was her stark reminder that she had a job to do. They would arrive together, then the officers would escort Coonan upstairs and into interrogation, leaving him to wait while she organized herself to lay the groundwork for his confession and coerce him to give up Rathborne's information. Until she entered the room, Coonan would be sitting there alone, wondering where everyone was…

He was a jerk, Kate decided. She'd make him wait.

After two glances in the side mirrors, she zipped into the center lane, flicking on the blinker in time to turn left under the protection of the green arrow from the traffic signal.

Once settled onto the side street with the flow of traffic, Castle grinned, pointing out the window towards the approaching end of the block. "It's on the corner of this next intersection. On the right."

Always trying to be helpful, he even pointed out an open parking space halfway between the intersection they'd just left and the upcoming one- one which Kate ignored in favor of parking her cruiser in the fire lane with a little smirk. "This had better be good, Castle," she added, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.

"It will be," he said with a proud smile as he opened his door. Kate took that as a signal to follow suit, and she also exited the car, quickly surveying the largely residential block of townhouses and renovated brownstones converted into tiny apartments.

It was a nicer block of the city, though the business she had parked in front of was rather non-descript. "Really, Castle? We're going to the dry cleaners?" she asked with disgust.

Castle chuckled. "Of course not. We're going next door," he said with a sweeping gesture toward the next building. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. I figured we could use a snack before interrogation."

The bakery wedged next door was small, decorated by a pale red door and two windows that alternately offered a glimpse of a few booths, eight tables and roughly fifteen chairs split between them, and a mouthwatering selection of bread, pastries, cupcakes and cookies. Judging from the elegant writing on a sign hung beside the door, the place also offered coffee and a seasonal lunch menu.

He was taking her to a bakery, and judging from the pleased smile on Castle's face, the trip had nothing to do with his own hunger and everything to do with taking care of her.

Over the past few days, Kate hadn't exactly been shy about being hungry. She had sent Castle to the store twice in the past week for bags of walnuts, which had probably clued him in to the development of her cravings. Yes, he knew about the nuts, but she'd never dream of telling him the rest. He'd maybe not comment on the fact her breakfast for the past several days had consisted of two slices of toast slathered in peanut butter, sliced mango and her beloved walnuts, but pregnancy cravings had demanded that Kate add a squeeze of lemon juice and a dollop of soy sauce on top of all of that, too. That was the part he'd never let her live down, and the very reason she was resolved not to share that particular development.

The banana nut muffin Kate ordered once they are inside made him chuckle, especially when she asked for the one with the largest amount of walnuts sprinkled on the top, She considered smacking him for it, even more so when he insisted on paying for her food and the decaf coffee meant to go with it, but she resisted in favor of following Castle to one of the small booths.

"We can't stay too long," Kate said, glancing at her watch as she pinched off a bit of her muffin. "Only a few minutes. I don't want Coonan to wait too long. The less time he has to come up with a story, the better."

Castle nodded noncommittally, biting into his apple fritter. His choice of snack had surprised her- apple fritters had been her mom's favorite. Kate had never really cared for them, but her mother had purchased them without fail on Saturdays when she was a kid. Like clockwork, Johanna had come home every Saturday morning with a bear claw for Kate, glazed donuts for her dad, and an apple fritter for herself.

Those simple memories of her mom generally made her smile, but today, all it did was leave her aching heart hurting even more. Kate could feel the tears pricking at her eyes at the mental image of her mother's grin as she took the first bite of the pastry, and how she would always make sure Kate hadn't wanted some of the fritter for herself.

It had been twelve years since she had seen her mother smile, and this case had been hanging over her head all that time. For the last decade it had become her personal crusade, dictating every aspect of her life until it had been reduced to little more than shambles. Her father had been the one to insist she give it up, to encourage her to seek therapy and let herself off the hook. If he could get sober, she could give up her own addiction.

Except, now, she'd fallen back into the habit. Her mother's case was wide open again, and its biggest clue was dangling at the end in wait for Kate to grab it, ending the mystery.

"Hey," Castle said suddenly, setting his half-eaten pastry on the table. "Are you okay?"

Judging by the way he was studying her face, Kate knew he'd seen the tears in her eyes. Normally she'd brush off the concern, making some joke or offering a distraction. This was a part of herself that she kept carefully guarded, but if Castle had proven anything to her it was that he was trustworthy.

"Twelve years," she said quietly, staring at the table. "That's how long it's been since Dad and I came home and found that detective waiting for us. Eleven years since we crossed that yellow tape and went into the alley. And to this day, every time I cross the tape at a crime scene, I think of that night."

She had never seen her mother's body at the crime scene. By the time they had arrived, the medical examiner's office had already transported her mom to the morgue, but the photo of Johanna slumped against the brick wall with a ragged wound in her torso was burned into Kate's mind. When she closed her eyes, she could see it so clearly, how the blue-green glow of the street lamps would have looked on her skin, how the light had been eliminated from her eyes.

Most of the time she wished they hadn't insisted on visiting the crime scene that night. She'd rather her last memories of her mother weren't of a battered body superimposed from a photo to the technicolor memory of that alley and the police cars. Kate would prefer to remember her mother as she was in life, full of grace and spirit.

"That's what makes you such a good cop," Castle said softly, the sound of his voice enough enticement for Kate to open her eyes, seeing his filled with concern. "That you've never forgotten what it's like to be on the other side."

"What if I let her down?" she whispered. This case was her big break- her chance at bringing justice to her mom- and she couldn't bear the thought of failing.

Castle paused, seeming to gather his thoughts with a slow exhale of breath before he spoke. "I think she's already proud," he replied. "You've dedicated your life to giving a voice to those who no longer have one, and that's something that comes at a great personal cost. Most people give up when they run up against a wall, but you don't let go. You don't back down," he continued with a smile. "So you do the same thing here, you don't give up. You keep going and, one way or another, you'll get there."

His random compliments and quiet votes of confidence in her never failed to make Kate's heart flutter. Castle had a way of empowering her; of making her believe that she was able to do anything she set her mind to. She lowered her eyes, pursing her lips together in a half grin.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" he said.

"Since when do you ever ask for permission to ask me anything?" Kate muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, fair enough," Castle conceded. He leaned across the table, lowering his voice. "Have you been to the doctor yet?"

Kate shook her head. "Too busy."

"Beckett…"

"I know," she sighed. "I don't need you to lecture me."

"I wasn't planning on it," Castle shrugged. "I just care about you. As a friend, of course," he added quickly, blushing at the implication of what he had said.

Kate pressed her lips together at the quick addition of words, caught between surprise and trying not to laugh. Obviously he was embarrassed, but it wasn't really the time or place to tease him about it. "Thanks," she murmured. "It just feels like the whole world is against me right now."

"I'm on your side," Castle said gently. "I just don't want to overstep my boundaries. I don't know about the baby's father, but…"

"There are no boundaries," Kate blurted out, noting the look of surprise on Castle's face. "No, that's not what I meant," she said, flustered. "It's just that… he's not in the picture. He doesn't even know I'm pregnant. But can we not talk about him? Please," she implored.

Castle nodded. "Of course," he said. "Just know that I'm here for you, any time you need anything," he reiterated.

"I appreciate that," she whispered.

He grinned in return, and in that moment, all Kate wanted to do was stay at the bakery with Castle, chatting the afternoon away and laughing away her troubles. A quick glance at her watch told her that fifteen minutes had already passed, though, which meant that she really needed to get back to the precinct.

"Time to go?" Castle asked, no doubt noting the look she had given to her watch and the overall shift in her demeanor. She'd felt her shoulders tense the moment she began thinking about the upcoming interrogation, the smile fading from her face.

"Yeah," Kate sighed. "We can't leave Coonan waiting much longer."

"I suppose not," Castle said, grabbing the trash off the table as he moved out of his seat. He stood quickly, meeting her at her side of the table and holding out his free hand to help her out of her seat.

"Thanks," she murmured, taking his hand and allowing him to help her up. "And… thanks. For this."

He smiled. "No problem, Beckett."

* * *

"Castle, you don't have to do this."

He wasn't surprised that Kate had followed him from Dick Coonan's interrogation into the break room, letting out a huff of air that showed some combination of anger and relief. At this point, he truthfully couldn't read which was the more dominant emotion. Back in the box, she'd looked ready to snap him like a toothpick at his insistence that he'd foot the $100,000 to secure a hit on Johnny Vong by Rathborne, but now that she was blinking at him as he fiddled with the precinct's new top-of-the-line espresso machine, Rick thought it was far more likely that Beckett was going to cry.

"I know that," he replied with a quick glance to her, completely serious and solemn. "But I want to do it, which makes all the difference."

One look at Kate Beckett was enough for Rick to know that she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Even after Montgomery had let them know that the District Attorney had agreed to grant Coonan transactional immunity in exchange for catching Rathborne, she'd maintained a posture of defeat. In the observation room she had been fidgeting, pacing back and forth while they waited for Coonan's lawyer to arrive. That movement had carried into the actual interrogation, and now she was still constantly shifting her weight back and forth between her feet.

Kicking off her heels, Kate dropped almost four inches in height as she leaned against the counter, going still for the first time in almost two hours. With her eyes pressed closed, Rick took advantage of the stillness to study her; his eyes first darting to her abdomen. While she wasn't showing yet, Kate definitely wasn't as thin as she had been when he met her just over two weeks ago. It was marginal, but her waistline had definitely thickened, evidenced by the way her shirt wasn't tucked in as smoothly into her pants as it had been when they'd met.

If you really looked, you could see the slightest hint of a rounded edge. It likely wasn't enough for anyone to notice, but to Rick, as someone in the know, the change was glaringly obvious. He would guess that she was nearing the end of her first trimester. Of course, Kate hadn't been to the doctor yet, so there was no way to confirm it.

Even with the weight of her mother's case on her, she was strikingly beautiful. Her pregnancy had added an extra glow to her already stunning features that even a terrible event like this couldn't take away from her.

"That's a lot of money for you to just drop," Kate finally said, her voice thick with emotion as she opened her eyes. "I don't know if the department would be willing to reimburse you. If they can't, I'll pay you back personally. I can dip into my part of my mother's life insurance payout, I've left it untouched since…."

"Negative, ghost writer," Castle interrupted, slotting in the ground coffee beans into the machine and twisting the knob for the brew to begin to trickle out into the waiting cup. "It's no trouble at all. You can think of it as your payment for letting me shadow you."

Once the coffee had dwindled to a slow drip, Rick removed the cup, slowly pouring his steamed milk into the same mug and topping it with a generous amount of foam. "Decaf," he said when he extended the cup towards Kate, taking note of her suspicious look at him.

Beckett took the drink carefully, giving a measured sniff, as if she were testing his efforts for poison. But there was a grin beginning to ghost at the corners of her mouth, which he took to mean his budding career as a barista wasn't misplaced after all. "That's a pretty big payment just for letting you shadow me for a book," she said, taking a careful sip of her coffee.

"It isn't just about the book," he said quietly. "I'd do this for any friend of mine. Maybe that's a bit forward, I've only known you for a couple of weeks, but we've spent a lot of time together, and I definitely think of you as a friend."

At his words, Kate glanced up from her coffee, not bothering to hide the smile that was creeping onto her face. "Really? I mean… I think of you as a friend, too."

She grinned up at him, and he was suddenly struck by how much shorter than him she was without her heels on; how small and vulnerable she seemed without the extra height they usually provided.

"Hey, Beckett, Cas- oh, are we interrupting something?"

Castle jumped at the sound of Kevin Ryan's voice, startled by the sudden interruption. At the same time, Kate whirled around, her face flushing as she turned to look at Ryan and Esposito, who were standing in the doorway.

"No," she snapped, completely matter-of-fact and all business, despite the pink flush to her cheeks.

"Uh huh," Ryan nodded, skepticism written in everything from the tilt of his head to the disbelief in his voice. "Anyway, Coonan just got the email address from Rathborne's answering service. We can email Rathborne now with the hit for Vong."

"Okay, thank you," Kate replied, tipping back the remains of her coffee in one long sip with a grateful smile towards Rick as he stood caught in the crossfire of a conversation that he was glad to hear, but had nothing to contribute to.

"Hey, Beckett?" Esposito said, looking down at Kate's bare feet as she took a couple steps towards the door. "This isn't the beach. You might want to put your shoes on," he said with a grin. "Though I do like the toenail polish. Bright purple is a good look for you."

Rick stifled a laugh as the two detectives exited the doorway with their own soft chuckles and one last side-long glance. Beckett, however, didn't laugh. Whether from annoyance at being teased by the others or just the difficult emotional situation of the case they were working, the bubble of relaxation had been popped.

Keeping himself pressed against the counter, Rick watched as she backtracked to slip on her shoes. The tension was back in her shoulders, her eyebrows drawn in concentration that was undoubtedly about the case. It worried him a bit to see how tense she usually was at work, because he'd done enough research to know that maternal stress was bad for the baby. Actually, he'd done more than enough. He had gone overboard in acquiring the knowledge needed for taking care of a pregnant woman.

Like his ex-wife Meredith had been with their daughter Alexis, Kate didn't seem to be doing a very good job of taking care of herself. She was putting her work ahead of her own personal health, not to mention the baby's. Meredith had put her acting ahead of her pregnancy at first, and he had taken it upon himself to learn everything they needed to know. So now, he was applying that knowledge to Kate and her baby, figuring out what suited her the best in an effort to take care of her.

At the moment, she didn't have anyone else. She had told him the baby's father was out of the picture, which was surprising, but if she wasn't going to take care of herself, he would. After all, he was her friend. And as her friend, he was invested in Kate's well-being.

Possibly even too invested, given the ease with which he shared bits of his life with her.

While Rick had no intentions of admitting that he was meddling in her health and trying to watch out for her, Kate would figure it out soon enough. Of course, that was assuming that their side trip to the bakery hadn't clued her in already. That little jaunt had been intentional in various ways, not only to provide a distraction and some momentary relief from the emotional onslaught of the case, but to urge her to eat and not suffer through a huge amount of hunger, as well as stress.

The coffee she had just drained had been intentional, too. It was another distraction of something familiar and comforting, and an effort to help her calm down and refocus. It had worked for a little while, which was all he could really ask for. This case was too important to sit stagnant for long.

Judging from the confident stride of Kate's heels out the door into the bullpen, their reprieve from catching a contract killer had come to an end.

* * *

 _To catch her killer._

On their rushed trip from the break room to holding, those four words replayed on a loop in Kate's head. Dick Coonan had spoken them yesterday, full of that smug arrogance that had annoyed her early on in their investigation. It was that same arrogance, that attempt at play-acting, that had given some credence to the facts involving his drug ring and the contract hit on his brother.

That arrogance was also the thing that would allow her to nail him for the murder of her mother.

Whether it was a purposeful slip up meant to torment her in the aftermath of his exiting free for his crimes, or an innocent misspoken pronoun unleashed in his excitement at the prospect of full immunity, Kate didn't care. She hadn't told him her mother had been the victim of a violent death.

Coonan had already known. He had known, and now she was going to pin him to the wall.

"There is no Rathborne," Kate barked as she strode into the large room, iron bars on either side containing cells largely empty of suspects and petty criminals. "That was just a cover up."

Castle was right beside her, a glare that matched her own blazing anger in his eyes as they covered the distance to Coonan and one of the uniforms. If he seemed surprised at her accusation, it didn't show, though the officer in charge of releasing him looked a bit slack-jawed at her announcement.

"It was you," she finished as they reached their final destination, an arm's reach away from a contract killer who still seemed to be sizing her up, the pen needed to sign for his freedom tapping lightly on the clipboard that she knew contained the paperwork for the city to drop all charges against him- charges covering everything from drug trafficking to first degree murder.

She was going to add another four counts to that last one, just as soon as she slapped some cuffs on him.

"Clever girl," Coonan said with a grin, dropping the clipboard and the pen in favor of lunging towards the officer on duty. Seeing him in action, watching the way his right fist landed a jab to the throat to stun a trained cop and temporarily eliminate his air supply as his left came up with the man's firearm, she understood how Coonan had been an effective member of special forces.

He was ruthless and, in a flash, he had hauled Castle in front of him, gun pressed securely to his side. Judging from the angle of the barrel, any shot that went off would land near a vital organ. The kidneys, spleen, or possibly even her partner's liver.

A glance at the writer told her that he knew it, too. From the thin layer of perspiration at his hairline to the grim set of his mouth and the tension in his shoulders, Richard Castle wasn't expecting to get out of this unharmed.

Not that she could afford to focus on him. Her fingers had already twitched towards her own gun, poised over the leather of the holster and intent on a quick draw, and in the distant corner of her mind, Kate thought her companion cop could come to her aid.

One quick glance was enough to tell her that the man was still unconscious, sprawled on the floor with a blooming red imprint along the front of his neck.

"Ah, ah, ah, Detective," Coonan said, eyes focused on her right hand before they slid across to her left. The curiosity in his gaze lasted just a moment, long enough for Kate to realize that her left hand had instinctively gone to hover in front of her abdomen in an effort to protect her unborn baby. Maternal instinct, something she might have sworn she didn't have before now, had taken over.

And love. The level of love she had for her kid was right there, bubbling over her concern, fear and anger.

"Interesting," Coonan chuckled at her, tilting his head to observe Castle with another of those menacing grins. "I presume it belongs to you?"

Castle's mouth opened at that, chest expanding for the air needed to say something that Kate was sure wouldn't help the situation. She jumped in first, dropping her hand away from her gun and squaring her shoulders. "Don't say anything, Castle," Kate ordered, pleased when he swallowed his words and remained silent.

Dick took advantage of the quiet, shooting another easy grin towards Kate as he spoke. "Here's what's going to happen," he began, nudging Castle's feet in tandem until the writer took two small steps forward. "We are going to stroll on over to the elevator together. Nice and easy."

"That'll never happen," Kate replied with a shake of her head, her mind spinning about the bullpen full of cops who were trained to notice situations such as these, where people were being held under duress. There was no way Coonan could get out of here without someone picking up on the signs, which would be fine if he didn't have a gun pressed to an innocent man's back, or if she wasn't in desperate need of the information that only Coonan had.

Finding her mom's killer was one thing. But Kate still needed to find the person who had ordered the hit.

"Won't it?" the man asked, smirking at the false confidence she was trying to project. "If you make a sound, or attempt to signal, if you so much as clear your throat, I'll put a round in this man's liver. Do you want your baby's daddy to die, Kate? Because he will. He'll die slowly, and in considerable pain," Coonan said, twisting Castle's arm until the writer let out a pained gasp.

Their situation was impossible. She had no doubt that Coonan would follow through on his promise, even with a building full of cops. If she did nothing, Coonan would be in the wind. If she acted, her friend, and the man who had so easily put up all that money, would be dead because of her carelessness.

"Let's go," Coonan ordered, releasing Castle smoothly and draping his coat across the handgun. "You get on my other side, Detective."

With no room for argument, Kate fell into step with the two men, tension keeping her shoulders high and her spine ramrod straight while they navigated their way through holding and into a bullpen teaming with people at work.

"You know, I'm surprised," Coonan said as they turned the corner. "We've had no pithy remarks from the peanut gallery. It's not so funny when you are facing your own death, is it?" he asked Castle, who wrinkled up his nose at the question.

"I don't know, _Dick_ ," Castle said, placing special emphasis on the man's name. "You tell me. Last time I checked, this was a police station."

His voice was surprisingly strong and clear, but Kate didn't allow herself to look back at him again. Instead she kept her eyes forward, roaming the bullpen in search of the Captain. She found Montgomery quickly, busy chatting with a group of detectives near his office on the other side of the room. Whether because he sensed something wrong, or because he felt her eyes scanning him, the man raised his head as they passed, locking eyes with her for a brief second.

She quickly turned her head towards Coonan, eyes down at the floor. She couldn't afford to let him think she was giving a signal.

"You knew before I arrested you, didn't you?" Kate asked quietly. "You knew my mom was your victim."

"It wasn't personal, okay?" Coonan said with a half-hearted shrug. "She was just another job."

"She was my _mother_ ," Kate spat, her teeth gritted in anger. "Who hired you to kill her?" It was a shot in the wind, and she knew it, but this would be her last chance to learn the person's name. They were halfway through the bullpen now; almost to the door.

"Forget it; you'll never touch him. He'd bury you," Coonan said with a laugh.

"Tell me who-" she started again, pausing at the sight of Montgomery stepping in front of them, gun already braced and trained towards Coonan.

"Sir, don't!" Kate said immediately, stepping forward with one hand extended toward her captain, the other pointing at Coonan, who had given up all pretense, discarding his jacket to put the gun on full display, where it pressed against Castle's ribs. "I need him alive," she added, doing her best to ignore the grunt of pain from Castle, most likely brought on by Coonan again twisting his arm to make him an effective human shield.

"That's right, you do need me," Coonan spat at her, his voice edged for the first time with just a bit of fear. "Now back off, or Castle dies."

To her horror, neither Montgomery nor the other cops backing him up changed their stances. Not a single gun lowered or wavered, and Kate felt her knees begin to shake.

"Sir," Kate tried again. "Back off, please."

"You know I can't do that," Montgomery said firmly, eyes trained on Coonan.

"Hey!" Coonan shouted, releasing the safety on the gun with a click before he pushed the barrel back into Castle's side. At the shout, Kate whirled around in time to see Castle flinch, his face morphing from the emotionless mask he had been aiming for to a look of solid fear. "You want to learn who ordered the hit on your mommy?" Coonan asked, his voice taunting her with the last word. "Then you'd better make sure I make it out of here."

She was frozen with indecision, watching Castle's quick, shallow breaths while she looked for a more appealing option- one that would result in capturing Coonan and not letting her partner die. The flicker of Castle's eyes towards her abdomen was yet another reminder that it wasn't just about them; that any risk she might be considering wasn't worth the price she might pay.

With that one glance, he had made his stance clear in the situation. If Kate had to make a choice, she was to take Coonan, to save her baby and herself. Castle was willing to be the sacrifice.

Once they were out of this situation, Kate decided she was going to kick his ass, especially when Castle added a nod of reassurance that she could read clearly in the unspoken conversation they were having.

 _Don't worry about me, Beckett. I'll be fine._

Yeah, she was definitely going to hurt him later. But first, she had to get him out of this alive. Ignoring Castle and his subtext, Kate turned back toward the captain, extending her hand once again as a sign of goodwill to Coonan that she wasn't signaling for anything.

"Roy, _please_ ," she begged, holding her spot until Montgomery lowered his weapon with a brief nod. All the other cops behind him followed suit.

"That's right, Roy," Coonan grinned, his fear dissolving back into that patronizing tone as he regained control of the situation. "Nice and easy."

At those words, Kate turned around to glare at Coonan, a hair away from barking out something nasty at him. She'd barely found her footing when Castle's head connected with Coonan's nose in a neat head butt, one that she quickly realized must have been signaled by the captain to Castle with that head nod.

The move had worked, stunning the killer, who slumped to the floor with a bloody nose. Castle immediately grabbed his head, reeling into the wall with the pain his quick action had caused. In that brief moment, Coonan resorted to his special forces training and found his footing, gun pointing and ready to fire.

It was a point blank shot, aimed at the chest and close enough that it would certainly kill Castle. She knew it, just like she knew that her position between the two men and the rest of the precinct meant that no one could take a clean shot. She was the human buffer, the one in the way, and if Kate didn't act, Castle would die.

Drawing her gun was instinctive, drilled into her by the police academy training and years on the job. She had joined the police department to protect the innocent, to give closure to families who lost one of their own. Richard Castle was innocent, a civilian who had chosen to shadow her and became her friend, despite all the hurdles and personal obstacles.

No matter how much she wanted information on who had ordered her mother's death, Kate wouldn't let him die. She valued Castle and his friendship more than the information Coonan had to offer.

The bullet Kate fired from her gun found its home in Coonan's chest, blood immediately blooming out onto his white shirt. For the second time, the man stumbled, stunned enough to pause but not to drop the gun.

Her second shot took care of that, the gun clattering from his fingers at the same time his body made contact with the wood floor.

Immediately, people began to move. Officers went in search of a first aid kit. Someone else called for an ambulance, and Kate stood there, frozen by the gravity of her choice. The sound of her name, issued from Castle as he stared at her with wide eyes, pulled her out of the spiral, adrenaline dictating that she act rather than freeze.

Dropping her gun back into its holster at her hip, Kate went towards Coonan, hands already at work for chest compressions before her knees ever touched the floor. Instinctively, she knew it was too late. Doctors had a term for a patient on a surgery table with no hope- circling the drain- and he exhibited all the symptoms. His eyes had rolled back in his head, blood trickling from his mouth and the two holes she'd put in his chest.

Not that she was giving up. He was going to live. He was going to live and tell her exactly what she needed to know to find the bastard who had her mother killed.

They would both go to jail, and she would finally be free.

"Stay with me, come on!" Kate begged, her voice choked with emotion as she continued her chest compressions. Coonan's blood was beginning to leave his body in smaller volumes now, his heart unable to pump more of the life source through his system. He was fading fast, surrounded by a group of people who had all gathered back to watch, now that their immediate jobs had been completed.

The moment he took his last breath, she knew. With her hands on his chest, Kate felt the way he went limp, eyes glassy and empty.

Not that she stopped trying. Stubbornness was a Beckett family trait, and Kate rebelled against the idea of letting go. Instead she pressed even harder on his chest, furious anger building with every silent count of her CPR work.

 _One. Two. Three. Four. Five…_

He couldn't be dead. She hadn't come so far for nothing. He couldn't be dead.

The hand on his shoulder was the grounding force, the tangible reminder of a world that continued to turn outside of Coonan and her mother's case. The pressure of Castle's fingers against her jacket brought tears, thick and hot and the tears brought the undeniable reality.

 _Coonan was dead._

It all unleashed then, Kate's tears coming freely with one long sob as Castle slowly pulled her away from the body. And she didn't fight it, allowing herself to curl against his side, face pressed into his shoulder to hide her tears from a group of people that she'd always worked to remain professional in front of.

She didn't move for a long time, maintaining her position curled into Castle's side as the bullpen slowly bustled to life around the two of them. By the time Coonan had been placed into a body bag and rolled towards the elevator on a gurney, she'd stopped crying, pulling herself out of Castle's arms as a CSU tech approached to spray down the floor coated with Coonan's blood.

"Kate," Castle started as they got to their feet, approaching a trash can to deposit the wipes that she'd used to remove the blood from her hands. "I didn't…."

Whatever he was going to say could wait, she decided, stepping past him with a tight smile of apology. Across the bullpen, Captain Montgomery was standing in the doorway to his office, observing both of them and the clean-up crew in tandem. The sight of her captain so serious and tense was the reminder that she needed, a quiet nudge that the situation with Coonan easily could have ended differently.

He could have shot her instead of Castle. She could be lying on a table for an operation with a terminated pregnancy. Or, in a thought that brought a shiver up her spine, she and her baby could both have died.

Just as they could any other day, on any other case.

"Sir," Kate began as she worked her way between desks of detectives who were diligently trying not to stare. "I have to tell you something."

"Beckett, I don't want you to say anything that might…" Montgomery began, his voice both authoritative and hesitant.

"Sir, please let me finish. This is very important-"

"Beckett-" he cut into her explanation again, shaking his head to deny her the opportunity to explain herself.

"I'm pregnant!" Kate said over his protests, the words out of her mouth before she'd really accepted she would say them. Behind her, the bullpen seemed to go still, stunned into silence at the half-shout at which she'd admitted her secret.

Montgomery's eyebrows raised at the words, and the captain took one slow step to leave a space for her to enter his office. "Then you and I need to have a conversation."

She nodded slowly, wiping her sweaty hands on the thighs of her jeans as she stepped forward, feeling the eyes of her co-workers boring into her back. This was absolutely one of the worst days of her life, and as she crossed the threshold into Montgomery's office and heard the firm slap of the door closing behind her, Kate had a feeling it was only going to get worse.


	5. Chapter 5

"He died before he could tell her who ordered the hit," Martha sighed, her blue eyes tinged with sadness. "That's terrible, Richard."

Perched beside her grandmother on the couch in the loft, Alexis let out a long sigh, her face solemn. "I feel so bad for her."

"Me, too, Pumpkin," Rick said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder from his spot at the edge of the coffee table. Over the duration of the case, he'd been keeping both of them updated on the details of the case. Neither of them had met Beckett, but even so, they both had been eagerly hoping for the best outcome. Likewise, he had been honest about Kate's pregnancy from the beginning. Usually, that subject caused his daughter to bristle, while his mother gushed with maternal concern.

"So, how is Detective Beckett doing now? Is she okay?" Martha asked, that familiar note of concern shadowing her voice. .

"Well…" Rick started, realizing rather quickly that he didn't have much to say. Kate hadn't given him the chance to talk after she had spoken to Montgomery. Her conversation with the captain had been brief, and judging by the way she had looked afterward, things hadn't gone well. She had shut them all out, ignoring their calls and questions as she picked up her bag and her coat. Still, he had followed her towards the elevator, continuing the efforts begun by Ryan and Esposito to get her to talk.

She hadn't taken the bait. Instead, Kate had stepped onto the elevator, keeping her back to the bullpen until the doors had closed.

"I actually don't know how she's doing," he finally said with a sigh. "I haven't talked to her since it happened."

"You haven't talked to her at all? Dad," Alexis said, a tone of disgust in her voice.

"Really, Richard! And you call yourself her friend," his mother chided, giving him that disapproving glance that was so familiar to his childhood.

The redheads were ganging up on him again, he thought. That seemed to be a common occurrence as of late. But at least in this situation, Rick hadn't been completely in the wrong. "I tried!" he replied. "But she didn't want to talk. She left without saying anything. She clearly needed space and some time to process everything."

"It's been hours since you came home, Richard," his mother said, pushing herself up from the couch. "She's had time."

"Mother-" Rick sighed, resisting the urge to fist his hands in his hair. She wanted it to be simple, but it wasn't. There was a real risk in overstepping his boundaries with Kate. Even after their discussion at the bakery, there was still a need to be cautious with her. After all, he had only met her two weeks ago. No matter how much he thought he knew and understood, it was clear that he had barely scratched the surface. Yes, Kate put up an appearance of being confident and fearless, but this had broken her. He had watched that strong detective's armor fall away and leave the girl underneath it; someone delicate, grieving and emotionally defeated.

"Who else does she have?" Martha asked, her exasperation obvious as she stretched out a hand to Alexis. "You told us that her best friend isn't speaking to her, and she might not feel comfortable talking to the other two detectives, given her situation. She's admitted to you that things are awkward with her father. That leaves you, my boy."

With Alexis on her feet, Martha gave a shake of her head, leading his daughter towards the staircase. "In times of distress, a girl wants her mother. She can't have that, so she needs a genuine friend. Someone who knows the full scope of what she has been through and what she is currently dealing with."

Stopping on the stairs, his mother turned back towards him, that tender, motherly look on her face- the one that always managed to stir Rick up and push him to do the right thing. "You know her deepest secrets, Richard. You know them and you won't judge her for them. And, aside from all that, she trusts you."

With one last piercing look, Martha hustled Alexis up the stairs with a line about needing her assistance to pick an outfit for a date.

Once their voices had faded, Castle sighed, running both of his hands through his hair. His mother was right - it was rare she wasn't - he needed to go see Kate. The detective was stubborn, and she would never readily admit if she needed anything. In fact, she would pride herself on suffering through and not asking for help or support.

Which was all the more reason to show up and give it to her.

Forty-five minutes later, Rick was knocking at her apartment door, a bag filled with food hanging from one arm. When the door opened, it was with a certain reluctance, her calculating eyes peering out at him.

But the frustration didn't last long. Instead, it was replaced by surprise, Kate's eyebrows lifting with it. "Castle," she murmured, the unspoken question of why he was standing in her hallway lingering in her voice.

"Hey," he grinned, studying her. Her hair had been pulled into a messy ponytail, and her clothes were meant for lounging at home rather than work. Gone was the leather jacket and the power heels; at home Kate Beckett tossed on a blue t-shirt and sweatpants. Without her makeup, she looked far younger, as well as exhausted. The red tinge around her eyes was enough to tell him she had spent at least part of her time at home crying, and the dark circles under her eyes were yet another signal that sleep had been a fickle friend lately.

"I thought you might be hungry," he offered, holding up the bag of takeout.

She looked ready to refuse him, one hand brushing a stray piece of hair off her forehead. "Castle, you didn't have to-"

"I brought walnuts," he interrupted, rummaging through the bag of food until he found them, holding them out to her.

That gesture caused Beckett to pause, some internal war taking place until she finally reached up to snatch the bag from his hand. With the slightest upward tilt of the corners of her mouth, she nudged the door open wider; an obvious invitation for Rick to come inside.

He followed her without a word, stepping into an apartment full of brick walls painted a creamy white, and a myriad of art that ranged from the interesting to the downright strange. Most of it looked old, nearly antique; the kinds of things that he imagined she picked up on vacations in exotic places or some crowded second-hand shop downtown. The windows were large, the curtains pushed open to allow the remaining sunlight of the day to filter into the space and highlight the artful arrangement of books stacked everywhere from the walls to the steps of that made up the back wall of Kate's kitchen.

It felt nice. It was a place where he was comfortable, and one that he was sure she would be. The furniture was mostly soft colors and differing textures, softness shoved up against clean, almost masculine lines.

An intricately flowered throw pillow sat on her couch, and another featuring a revolver in stark black and white on a leather chair.

A perfect representation of Kate Beckett, he decided as she dropped onto the edge of the sofa, placing the bag of walnuts beside her. Following her lead, Rick chose the armchair with the gun pillow, carefully placing the rest of the food onto the coffee table beside yet another pile of books covered by a sheaf of papers.

If nothing else, she was definitely a reader.

"I know you're having cravings and food aversions and all that, so I didn't know what you felt like," he began, careful not to bump the papers onto the floor as he started to unload the food onto the coffee table. "So I got sushi, Italian, some Thai, and I grabbed some hot dogs."

Kate's eyes quickly flicked down to the food on the table for just a moment, a tired smile playing at her mouth when she looked back up at him. "That's really sweet of you," she murmured. "Thanks."

"No problem," he grinned, busying himself with flipping open lids on the various Styrofoam containers and sticking utensils into the food inside.

She sat still for a moment, letting him work on arranging their dinner with her eyes fixed firmly on the hands that were resting in her lap. Even as he situated the last of the food- unrolling tin foil from the hot dogs- the silence seem to grow, sitting heavy and a little awkward between them.

And then she opened her mouth, "Montgomery suspended me for six weeks." No emotion, no tears, just a matter-of fact-statement that left him gaping in surprise.

"Six weeks?" he replied in complete disbelief. "Beckett, that's-"

"Much better than I deserved," she said, cutting him off with a sigh. "He had the grounds to fire me, Castle. I'm lucky I still have a job at all, given that I broke a pretty big department rule. Protocol demands that we come forward as soon as we know we're pregnant to avoid any unnecessary risks, and I didn't. Of course, keeping my job means I'll be on desk duty until after the baby arrives."

"Still, I'm sorry," Rick said.

"Don't be. It's my fault," she answered. "You, my dad, Lanie - you all tried to tell me that I needed to tell Montgomery sooner, but I didn't listen. I was stubborn," she sighed, shaking her head as tears began to fill her eyes. "Too stubborn to think about what was best for me and the baby. And now Lanie's mad at me, my dad is disappointed, Montgomery is angry. I'm sure that Ryan and Esposito feel like I've betrayed them by lying…" Kate trailed off, blowing out a long breath of air as the tears spilled over from her eyes.

Castle resisted the urge to move to the couch beside her, instead leaning forward and stretching out his left arm, placing his hand gently on her knee. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured. "They may be upset with you now, but it won't last. They're your friends, and they'll come through soon enough. They just want what's best for you, and for the baby."

She sniffed again, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know," she murmured. "And I realized today that I do, too. I spent five weeks denying I was pregnant, and another two trying not to think about it at all. But everything that happened today made me realize how much danger I was putting my baby in, and I just can't do that anymore. I want to protect him. Or her," she added, a small grin on her face as she moved her hand slowly to her stomach.

"It's the weekend, so the doctor's office is closed, but I'm going to call them first thing Monday morning," Kate said, looking down at her hand. "I can't just keep pretending I'm not pregnant. I'm going to schedule an appointment."

"Good for you," Rick smiled, taking his hand off her knee. Intending to sit back and relax in the chair, he let his arm drag over the papers on the table, watching the whole stack shuffle and then spill into the floor between them. Immediately, Kate moved to lean forward, hands extended to pick them up, a motion that he joined, holding out his own hand to stop her.

"No, you stay there. I'll get them," he told her, kneeling on the floor to gather the papers and stacking them as neatly as he could. It was mostly black and white lines of text, what might have been witness statements and financial records, but there was a photo paper-clipped to one sheet, a picture of a woman's body slumped against a brick wall with blood staining her torso. All things considered, it wasn't nearly as gruesome or as violent as some of the cases he had worked with Ryan and Esposito, but Rick felt like it should be. There was something about the woman, even with her eyes closed and her skin devoid of color- something familiar that seemed just out of his reach.

His eyes began to skim the information on the paper without his express permission, the name listed at the top smacking into him with the emotional weight of a sucker punch. Johanna Houghton Beckett.

The paper belonged to Kate's mother. This was her autopsy report, in neat lines of precise medical text.

"Beckett," he said, looking up at her. "This is…"

"My mom's case file," she confirmed, her mouth pressed into a tight, grim line. "I put it away all those years ago, after therapy, and I haven't touched it since. But when I got home today… I mean, now that we know it was Coonan… I just had to look." She lowered her head, sighing.

"It was just going to read it over and see if the new information sparked anything new from the file. It was just going to take a few minutes… but once I started looking, I couldn't stop myself. I've been down that road before, so I know how quickly this can spiral out on me, and I'm worried…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "I'm worried that I'm going to slip again, like I did all those years ago, and drown myself in my mom's case. I can't afford to do that again. It's not just my life that I'm risking anymore."

His mother had been right; Kate really did trust him with her deepest secrets. But this was more than just trust - he could see the worry etched across her face, and the plea for help written into her eyes. She was asking him, in her own way, to save her from destroying herself again. She wasn't able to do it on her own. And he had an idea of how to help.

"Beckett," Castle said suddenly, setting the pile of papers on the coffee table. "Have you ever been to the Hamptons?"

"A couple of times when I was a kid, but it's been years," she answered, looking at him warily. "Why?"

"I have a beach house there," Castle said, his face lighting up with the possibilities. "My mother and daughter and I spend a couple of weeks there every summer. Alexis just finished her last week of school, and we're planning on driving up there on Monday afternoon. You should come with us. I'd like you to come with us, rather," he finished.

She sat quietly, not speaking for several seconds as she thought, her brow furrowed.

"You'd have your own bedroom," he added quickly, hoping to assuage any fears she might have. "And you can meet my mother and Alexis before hand, if it would make you feel better. I've told them about you, and they're dying to meet you, anyway. Or at least, my mother is. She's-"

"Castle," Kate said, interrupting his rambling with a small shake of her head. "I don't know when my doctor's appointment will be, and…"

"We'll wait for you," Castle insisted. "Or you can drive yourself up there after your appointment. It doesn't matter to me. But we'd love for you to come, even if you don't stay the entire time."

She sat quietly, her eyes focused on the ground as she thought. He watched as her brow furrowed, then relaxed, with an accompanying sigh. She was warring with herself, trying to decide whether or not she should go. He could practically see the wheels in her mind spinning, trying in vain to fabricate a good excuse for staying in the city.

"Are you sure your mom and your daughter aren't going to mind?" she finally asked, hopefully ignoring the way that his lips were twitching with the urge to smile.

"Absolutely not," Rick replied, aware how his voice was bordering on over-assurance with its definitive tone. But he wanted Kate to come, just as he wanted her to feel comfortable with her decision when she arrived. "They'll be thrilled to have you with us."

The last part was perhaps laying it on a little thick, as he wasn't entirely sure how true the statement would be. His mother wouldn't mind, he knew that, but Alexis would likely have a very different stance. Where Martha had taken to Kate from his stories and automatically felt sympathy for her as a fellow single mother, his daughter had taken the route of skepticism. Despite all of his enthusiasm and attempts to convince her, the teenage wasn't very keen on his spending so much time with the pregnant and very single homicide detective.

Still, Rick pushed aside that particular worry, giving her a big smile of encouragement.

That familiar look had made its way back onto her face. It was the one that Beckett usually wore while staring at a murder board, working through the pieces of a case and willing it all to click together in her head. She was studying him like one of those boards now, staring so hard that he could practically see the pro and con list forming in the air above her head like a comic strip thought bubble.

"I'd love to come," she said after a moment, flashing him a small smile.

"Great!" Rick exclaimed, grinning when Kate immediately picked up the bag of walnuts and tore into it, popping three of them in her mouth and crunching down with relish.

* * *

She shouldn't be this nervous. It was just a vacation with a friend and his family.

She'd come so very close to saying "no" when Castle asked her to accompany his family on their trip. To say no was automatic, born from her usual efforts to deter and resist allowing people into her very guarded life. Usually Kate could use work as her excuse, citing the fact that criminals never took a day off and, unless she was putting in for vacation time, that she would be on call or dispatch to the latest case. Now there was no work, just six weeks of free time stretching out in front of her. Sure, she had things to do, like attend a doctor's appointment and maybe begin learning some of the basics about what her body would be going through in the coming months, but there was something enticing about the thought of a few days at the beach.

Driving herself to the Hamptons wasn't ideal, but when Kate's doctor had scheduled her appointment for Wednesday morning, she'd had no choice but to stay behind when the Castles had left on Monday. With her appointment behind her, she had hopped in her rental car, flipped on the radio and headed towards Long Island.

With every passing mile, she had grown more nervous, and now that her GPS told her she was only two miles away, Kate thought her heart might jump out of her throat.

What the hell had she been thinking, agreeing to spend time in the Hamptons with him? They'd only known each other for three weeks. She had no business going on vacation with him. And his daughter. And his mother. God, she must come off as so desperate to them - the unmarried, pregnant woman, so quick to jump at the chance to vacation with the rich author she'd known for less than a month. What would they think of her? Castle had assured her that they'd love her, but what if they didn't? How could she spend a week with two women that were awkwardly pretending to enjoy her company when they were counting the hours until she was gone?

Thank goodness she had her own car. If things got too bad, she could invent a reason to leave, giving herself, and the Castles an escape route. Kate couldn't say that she was needed at the precinct, nor could she use Lanie for an excuse - her best friend still wasn't speaking to her - her father was a rock situation, and not a good way out but if things were really bad…. …

"In 400 feet the destination will be on your right," the robotic, indistinguishable voice of her GPS said, cutting off her plans of escape. Kate scowled at the machine while she tapped on the brakes to slow her speed, flipping on her turn signal to approach the gate that barred just anyone from driving up.

The gate itself was wood, white washed and beachy, with what looked to be antique hinges. The whole thing was held up by light gray stone columns where a pin pad was recessed into the one on the drivers side. Even as she rolled down her window to key in the number Castle had given her for entrance, she could see the roofline of the house with its shingled siding and white trim.

It was huge. And, as the gate doors parted to give her an unencumbered view of the house, she saw that it was beautiful.

How was she supposed to do this?

She couldn't turn back now, not when Castle had probably spotted her car or noticed that the gate had opened, so she sat up straight, taking a deep breath to try and calm herself as she drove through the gate.

By the time her car was parked, the front door was open, the man in question hurrying down the front steps with a cheerful wave. It was true that she had no idea if he had been watching and waiting for her to arrive, but Kate could admit that she wouldn't have been surprised it he had. With one more deep breath, she flipped off the ignition, unbuckled her seat belt and opened the car door to face the music.

"Beckett! Hi!" Castle's voice washed over her the moment she was out of the car, and he closed the distance remaining between them in the time it took her to close the door and pop open the trunk. "Did you have any trouble finding it?"

"No," she replied, pushing the trunk lid up a little more for easy access to her bags, "The GPS led me straight here."

"Good," he said, stepping forward to pull out her suitcase in one fluid motion. "Just one bag? I'm impressed." Rick grinned, pushing the trunk closed before tugging the rolling bag behind him.

"Well, no," Kate admitted, scratching absently at the back of her neck. With her free hand she opened the passenger side door, showing him the black messenger bag that she usually hauled to and from the precinct. "But I can get this."

"You aren't carrying that," Rick replied, again stepping forward to grab the strap and haul it from the front seat. Judging from the surprise on his face, he hadn't been expecting the weight, grunting just a bit with the effort of arranging the bag on his shoulder. "What did you put in here? Bricks?"

"Just a few things," Kate shrugged, shutting the car door with a dull thump. "My laptop, a journal… some files…"

She knew she shouldn't have, but she'd brought along her mom's case file and all of its accompanying documents. Yes, this was supposed to be a vacation and a break from everything that was going on, but Kate couldn't bear the thought of leaving the file at home. The development with Coonan was huge, and she knew that an important connection could be made by studying the files.

She just had to find it.

Her attempt at nonchalance didn't fool Castle. "Some files, huh?" he asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

Rather than answer, Kate pressed the lock button on the car remote, letting the clipped honk of the car's horn serve as her response. She knew that Castle would try to dissuade her from working on her mom's case at all, let alone while she was in the Hamptons with him, and she wasn't willing to talk about it right now.

"Well, shall we?" he asked, closing his hand around the handle of her suitcase and walking up the sidewalk to the front door, motioning for her to follow. Kate trailed behind him, grinning at the sight of Richard Castle, her overstuffed work bag on one shoulder, and her red suitcase dragging behind him. He was already going out of his way to take care of her, and knowing him, that wasn't anything that would change in the coming days. While it was kind of annoying to usually be left unable to do things for herself when he was around, the sweetness behind the gestures never failed to make her heart flutter.

But now, standing at the front door, Kate's heart was pounding for a different reason. The nerves were back, pumping through her veins at the realization that his mother and daughter were inside the house. Well, it was actually a _mansion_ , and -

"Come on in," Castle said, smiling genially as he swung the door open, gesturing for her to enter. She offered a hesitant smile in return, then walked through the doorway, only taking three steps in before she stopped, looking around in awe.

A chandelier hung from the high, vaulted ceiling in the entryway, and the cream colored walls were decorated with expensive artwork. A small glass table on the opposite wall held a vase filled with brightly-colored flowers, and Kate could just see the large, bay windows of the living room through a large, arched doorway.

"Wow, Castle," she said reverently. "This is beautiful."

"Thanks! I'm glad you like it. Mother! Alexis!" he called. "Our guest is here."

It only took a few seconds before two women with matching fiery red hair rounded the corner. Where Martha Rodgers had a smile ready, Alexis stopped as soon as she reached the doorway, eyes drifting down to Kate's stomach. With just that one look, Kate felt her face flush, already keenly aware that Castle's daughter was studying her and confirming some judgement that she had already made.

None of that seemed to deter his mother, who crossed the room to envelop her in a quick hug. "Hello, dear. We're so happy to have you here," his mother said, smiling again once she had released Kate. "We've heard so much about you! Richard has been following your work for several years, and he's just been beside himself with the chance to work with you."

Now Kate was blushing for a different reason, glancing at the writer, whose cheeks looked as red as hers felt.

"Beckett, I never..." Castle was hissing at her, undoubtedly launching some attempts to explain or defend himself from his mother's assessment, while Martha turned to usher Alexis into the room, the teenager still lingering in the doorway and watching the whole spectacle unfold. "I swear that I haven't been-"

"Don't try to deny it, Dad," Alexis said, abandoning her post at her grandmother's insistence. "He hasn't been able to stop talking about you for weeks, Detective Beckett. I'm Alexis," she finished, holding out her hand.

The girl exuded confidence, but unlike Martha, there was an air of insincerity with Alexis, exemplified in the fake smile plastered on her face and clouding their conversation. For whatever reason, Alexis wasn't too fond of her, and if she was going to enjoy the next two weeks, Kate would have to work to get Castle's daughter on her side.

"It's nice to meet you, Alexis," she replied, smiling. "And please, call me Kate."

"Kate," Martha echoed. "Is that short for Katherine?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said with a nod.

"Oh, my dear, there's no need for formalities," Martha cooed, placing a hand on Kate's shoulder. "Just call me Martha. After all, you are more than just our guest; you're our friend. Richard, take Katherine's bags up the stairs, would you?" she directed, gesturing toward her son. "You and I will show her to her room. Alexis, I'm sure this poor girl is hungry; she just made quite a long trip. A snack would be good. Could you take care of that?"

Her business taken care of, Martha swept from the room with a tinkling laugh, accompanied by the shuffling footsteps of Alexis, who sighed and headed towards where Kate presumed the kitchen was.

Castle made no attempt to move, standing perplexed in the foyer with both of her bags in his hands. Following his lead, Kate lingered for a bit longer, a grin curving at her lips when his eyes met hers.

"Is your mother like this all the time?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, his eyes widening. "Oh, absolutely," he said. "And that was the calm version of her. Just wait until she…"

"Katherine! Richard! Are you coming?" Martha's voice echoed from the top of the staircase.

"Yes," Kate called, sharing one last smile with Castle as she turned toward the staircase, catching a flash of red hair darting back around the corner at the end of the hall with a small scowl on her face. Alexis might be reluctant to warm up to Kate, but at least two of them were on her side.

She couldn't believe how picturesque this was. The beachside house; the pool in the backyard; the sunset, streaking the sky with splashes of pink and orange; the rolling blue waves crashing into the smooth, white sand on the shore. It was no wonder Castle loved this place so much. The call of the waves was tantalizing, and she found herself staring out at the ocean throughout most of their dinner on the back patio.

"So, Katherine, you had a doctor's appointment this morning?" Martha asked, breaking the silence that had settled among the four of them as they ate. Castle had cooked steaks and baked potatoes for dinner, and the food was absolutely delicious. Kate never would have guessed that the writer had such a talent in the kitchen.

"Yes," she responded, forcing her eyes away from the water to face Martha. "My first one."

"Oh, your first appointment? You must be about eight or nine weeks along, then?"

"Twelve, actually," Kate answered shyly. She'd waited far longer than was recommended for the first appointment, and the doctor hadn't been too pleased when he realized how far along she was.

"Twelve weeks? My, you're almost to your second trimester already! When are you due? How are you feeling? Are you still feeling nauseous? Are you taking prenatal vitamins? You need to be," Martha gushed.

"Gram," Alexis groaned.

Kate glanced at Castle, who was sitting directly across from her, a knowing grin on his face. He'd warned Kate that his mother would ask lots of questions, and could even seem a little overbearing with her well-intentioned curiosity. Apparently, Martha Rodgers didn't shy away from personal questions, even some that could been seen as intrusive.

She raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to Martha with a slow smile. "I'm feeling fine, most of the time. The sickness comes and goes. And yes, I'm taking prenatal vitamins." She decided not to mention that she'd only been taking them for the past four days. The morning after Coonan's death, she'd gone to the store and bought two bottles of them, in addition to three different pregnancy books. The moment she arrived home from the store, she'd begun to research the best obstetricians in the city. This was her child, and she had to take care of it.

The ultrasound at her appointment today had only solidified that feeling. Something changed inside of her the moment she saw the grainy black and white image on the screen. The outline of the baby's head was clearly visible- the tiny nose so much like her own- and the longer she'd stared at her baby, the more she'd fallen in love.

There was no way Kate would ever be able to give the baby up for adoption. She was too in love with her child to even imagine giving it away. The despair she'd felt upon first learning of her pregnancy was completely gone, and a love far stronger than anything she'd ever felt had taken its place. Despite everything that was going wrong in her life, and against all the odds, she was still happy. The child inside of her gave her life meaning and filled her heart with joy.

She glanced up to find all three members of the Castle family staring at her. Alexis quickly shifted her eyes downward the moment Kate looked at her, but mother and son held a steady gaze, matching looks of awe in their identical blue eyes.

"What?" Kate asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Beckett," Castle grinned. "You're glowing."


	6. Chapter 6

Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was spacious, with top of the line appliances, custom cabinets, handsome marble countertops and silver pulls that glinted in the soft light of the sun rising up over the ocean that ebbed and flowed in the distance.

There was enough light in the window-filled kitchen at six in the morning that Kate didn't need any of the electric ones in the room. The golden pink glow was peaceful somehow, the quiet before what, thus far, had been days full of activities meant to distract her from her suspension and her mother's case.

Castle had tried his best to do just that, luring her with trips down the hillside to his patch of private beach for a swim or to collect seashells. They had gone to the village for ice cream made with ingredients primarily sourced from local farms, and spent an afternoon lounging around watching movies and playing board games when thunderstorms had ensured they were stuck inside.

For the most part, his efforts worked, except in the late hours of night and early hours of morning when Kate ended up by herself. Years of being called out to crime scenes before dawn had made her a morning person on its own, but the progression of her pregnancy had now seemed to orient to that schedule. Every day for the past week, without fail, she had been woken at the same time with morning sickness and, after dealing with that unfortunate event, Kate had yet to manage to go back to sleep.

So she had taken to making the most of the quiet, showering, getting dressed, and having a bit of a jump on the day while the other three occupants of the house slept in.

But something was off today, she thought, body oriented to the window and the still rising sun. The house felt slightly different, though it took the soft shuffle of footsteps before she put it together. Someone else was awake and, judging by the cadence and weight of the footfalls, it was the youngest Castle.

Cop instincts. Even on vacation in someone else's home, she couldn't shut them off. Always listening, always watching, always waiting for danger or trouble.

Alexis' copper-red hair seemed to glow when she stepped into the room, eyes still fuzzy with sleep reflecting confusion, surprise and just a bit of hostility at the realization that she wasn't alone.

"Hey, Alexis," Kate greeted, pasting on a smile that she hoped looked more genuine than it felt. The teenager hadn't exactly warmed up to her while they had shared space in her father's estate- something that she had tried not to dwell on but, truthfully, was a bit of a problem. "Sorry if I startled you."

The non-committal shrug Alexis gave in response was one that Kate remembered from her own teenage years; the one usually employed when she wanted her parents to get off her back and mind their own business. It was the sort of gesture that Alexis would never give her in the presence of her father or grandmother, all too aware of their expectations that she remain polite and genial to their house guest.

But on the occasions that Kate had found herself alone with Alexis, there was both indifference and downright dislike, which unnerved her in a way that she struggled to understand. She didn't understand how was it possible for her to stare into the face of a murderer and not flinch, but when faced with the suspicious eyes of Richard Castle's daughter, she considered hurrying out of the room to avoid the scrutiny being tossed in her direction.

"I was expecting anyone else to be awake," Kate said, forcing herself to keep a conversation going, even if it was destined to be one-sided. "Usually I'm the only one up this early," she added, watching Alexis shuffle across the room to the long counter underneath the bank of windows that still displayed the sunrise. With a slight yawn, the girl pressed her finger against the black coffee maker so that the pot would begin to brew. This was a benefit of her father's late-night routine so no one had to actively set the thing up in the morning. Just press the button, wait, pour, and drink.

It was one of a pair of coffee makers on the counter; the other a shiny white with a bright yellow strip of tape stretched across the top. Castle had bought the identical, although slightly smaller, model on one of their quick afternoon trips to the village, insisting that it was a 'for Beckett only' coffee maker and only meant to hold decaf. His block print announced as much (with four exclamation points, no less) where he had written those same words over the tape.

Like most of the things he had done for her, Kate found it a sweet gesture.

"Yeah, well, I couldn't sleep," Alexis replied, voice low and still edged with sleep. Still, it didn't stop the sidelong look she saw the teenager shoot her from the corner of her eye, her mouth set in a firm line. "Why are you awake?"

 _Accusation, curiosity, or both?_ she wondered, pressing the identical button to the family-size coffee maker so that her decaf would begin to brew. Likewise, there was the matter of how much to tell. Just how honest should she be with a seventeen year old?

Might as well bite the bullet. There was really nothing to lose.

"Morning sickness," she supplied, flashing Alexis a grim, self-deprecating smile.

Whether from her honesty or sheer embarrassment, the pale tinge of her skin gave way to bright pink and Alexis blushed, those blue eyes dropping to stare at Kate's stomach with a soft "Oh."

And that was it from the girl, her red hair dancing behind her with the neat turn of her feet on the tile floor until she pulled out one of the bar stools tucked neatly under the overhanging counter of the kitchen island and took a seat. Despite herself, those eyes drifted again to the slight curve of Kate's stomach.

In the span of a few seconds, a hundred unspoken words passed over the teenager's face. With them came every thought that Alexis Castle had probably ever had about Kate and her unmarried, pregnant self. It certainly overshadowed any of her positive qualities, or the work she had done as a detective.

Alexis didn't have to say it; it had been there in some form or another since she had walked into the house a week ago.

Enough was enough, Kate decided while the girl sat at the counter, eyes fixed on the backyard and her fingers drumming casually against the countertop. One way or another, she was going to change Alexis' perception of her. She would prove herself to Castle's kid, she promised herself while pulling two mugs from a cabinet and placing one of each near their respective coffee makers; she would show her that there was far more than what the teen saw at a casual glance.

With that decision made, Kate chose the stool beside Alexis, shifting through her mind for a topic.

"So, your senior year is coming up in the fall, right?" she asked, moderately encouraged by the brief nod the girl gave in response. Progress, Kate thought, letting out a quick breath and taking in another. "That's exciting. Have you started thinking about colleges yet?"

The tone Kate used sounded forced, overly cheerful, but if Alexis noticed, she didn't let on.

"Of course," she answered, giving Kate a brief glance, "But I haven't made any decisions yet."

"That's reasonable," Kate replied. "You still have time to decide. Any schools stand out from the others?"

Alexis considered that for a moment, her mouth twisting in a little lop-sided grin very reminiscent of her father. "The Ivy League schools. Yale, Princeton, Harvard. And I've thought about going abroad; maybe to Oxford or Cambridge. My boyfriend is going to Stanford in the fall, so I'm thinking about that, too. And Columbia."

Judging from her tone, Columbia wasn't the bright spot on the list. Probably a bit too close to home.

"I actually went to Stanford," Kate said with a smile, pleased to find some common ground and a potential way to bond with Alexis. "It's a great school."

The spark of interest was there alright, Alexis perking up just a bit and turning to face her full on. "I didn't know that. What year did you graduate?"

And just like that, things were complicated again. Still, Kate sat up straight, keeping her face neutral to meet the eyes of the teen beside her. "I didn't graduate; at least not from Stanford. I transferred to NYU after my freshman year."

The flicker of surprise was buried a moment after it appeared, those Castle blue eyes going a little flat and suspicious. "Why?"

"Well, my mom died," Kate answered quickly without embellishment, not for a seventeen-year-old sitting in her dad's kitchen waiting for coffee. "My dad… he was having a tough time with it, and I needed to be closer to him, so I went back home."

"Oh," Alexis murmured, her cheeks blossoming with that same red blush as her eyes fell to stare at the countertop. "I didn't know that."

And why would she? Kate thought, mouth open to say as much and let the girl off the hook. Instead, there was a heavy shuffle of footsteps down the hall, followed by the sleep-rumpled sight of Castle in a t-shirt, pajama pants and a pillow-creased cheek striding into the kitchen, to break the awkward silence between the two of them. "Good morning ladies," he greeted with a slow smile, walking the extra steps to plant a kiss against his daughter's head. "I smell coffee."

"Yep," Alexis said, taking advantage of the opportunity to move away from Kate and pushing her seat back. "It's probably ready now; I'll…"

"Nonsense," Castle said, opening a cabinet to pull out a third mug. "You both stay put. I'll get it."

Reluctantly, Alexis pulled her stool back toward the countertop, and both of them watched as Castle quickly filled the mugs— two with regular coffee from the pot on the left, and one with decaf from the pot on the right. After stirring a bit of vanilla-flavored coffee creamer into each cup, he presented the steaming mugs to Alexis and Kate with another grin.

Their murmured thanks came in unison, each of them busying themselves with a small sip of coffee.

"I'm making breakfast this morning, too," Castle announced after a slurp from his mug, before placing it on the counter in favor of approaching the pantry door and tugging it open. "I realized last night that Detective Beckett has never had my world-famous breakfast dish," he continued, broad arms flexing with the movement of retrieving the basic ingredients needed. "What better way to start off this morning than with the most delicious creation known to man?"

"World-famous, huh?" Kate remarked, fighting to hide her grin when Castle glanced at her from around the open door

"I may have exaggerated just a bit," he conceded, closing the door with a gentle push, a bag of marshmallows in one hand and a package of Hershey's chocolate bars in the other. "But trust me, it's delicious."

"You're not talking about s'morelettes, are you, Dad?" Alexis asked, her face wrinkled up in distaste. "Please say no."

"S'morelettes?" Kate asked, turning toward Alexis.

"Yeah. It's a s'more omelet," she sighed, eyes following her father's trek to the refrigerator to pick up the carton of eggs. "Dad made them up when I was a kid, and they're gross."

"Alexis, don't hate on my special recipe," Castle told her, a mock pout on his face. "You used to love s'morelettes."

"You're right. But I was only six years old and didn't know any better," she shot back, hopping off her stool to head to the pantry and fling open the door. "I'm eating cereal."

"Fine," Castle said with a shrug, not bothered by his daughter and her adventureless taste buds as he plopped a skillet onto the stove and flipped on the burner. "That just leaves more for me and Beckett."

"Castle, a s'more omelet just sounds… weird. I don't think I can eat that," Kate said.

"Oh, says the woman who ate a bowl of rice with butter, brown sugar, and soy sauce for a snack yesterday," he retorted with a grin.

"Touché," Kate sighed. "Okay, fine, I'll try it. But if it's bad…"

"It is not," Castle said firmly, cracking an egg into the pan with a flourish. "You're going to love it, I promise."

Five minutes later, a s'morelette was placed in front of her with a flourish, that excited, little boy smile Castle always got during theory sessions at the murder board plastered on his face. To her right, Alexis made a noise of disgust, scooting her half-eaten cereal a bit further away. "Good luck," the girl said with a glance to the plate.

Well, she had promised to try it, hadn't she? Swallowing her fear, Kate picked up her fork, cutting a small portion of the egg casing. Chocolate and marshmallow poured out immediately, freed from the confines of the egg, just disturbing enough to convince her that maybe she shouldn't eat it.

Still, she lifted the fork to her mouth, taking a tentative bite with every intention of a quick swallow and polite refusal to eat any more. Instead of horror at the taste, Kate sighed in pleasure, chocolate and sugar sweet marshmallow exploding on her tongue with the salty, chewy texture of the eggs.

The s'morelette was satisfying a craving she didn't even realize she had. She cut another quick bite and swallowed it with a happy grin. "This is so good," she said, her fork already at work to cut off a third piece.

"Yes!" Castle cheered, pumping his fist in the air, smirk directed at his daughter, who was watching with disbelief.

"You're kidding," Alexis said from the stool, surprise firing in her eyes.

"No! I love it," Kate answered, an easy smile on her face. "And the baby loves it, too."

"Should I make you and the baby another one?" Castle asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Definitely," she replied, ignoring the look of disgust Alexis shot at her as she shoved another bite into her mouth.

* * *

The steady patter of rain against the windows provided a comforting soundtrack to her afternoon. Kate had curled up on the couch when the storm rolled in mid-morning with its dark gray-blue clouds and rumbles of thunder, surprisingly grateful that a planned afternoon running errands with Castle in the village had been postponed.

He had insisted that nothing on his to-do list couldn't wait another day, and with Alexis upstairs talking on the phone with Ashley about plans for the Fourth of July and Martha studying one-act plays to give her acting students, Castle had announced he was going to attempt some writing and shut himself in his office.

Kate had made herself comfortable on the couch in the second floor living room, a space that was really nothing more than an extra-large place to lounge around. With a plush sofa and two arm chairs, a handsome, low-slung coffee table, and a tiny bookshelf wedged under the sloping edge of the roof, it was the perfect spot to read while rain lashed at the windows.

Adjusting the book in her hand, she flipped the page to the next chapter of the pregnant woman's guide to practically everything. _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ had been suggested by every internet article she had read and again proposed to her by her doctor, his nurse's aide, and the receptionist.

So she had bought a copy, and slowly begun to make her way through it. The thing had its uses, especially if she ever needed to compare her unborn child to a piece of fruit.

Right now, for example, her kid was the size of a peach.

Shoving aside that thought, Kate skimmed the heading at the top of the page; "Pregnancy and the Single Mother."

"This ought to be good," she muttered to herself, sarcasm in her voice and her mind full of old-fashioned beliefs involving bastard children, needing a man to provide, and the trouble of raising a child without a father figure.

 _Are you a single mom-to-be? Just because you don't have a partner doesn't mean that you have to be alone during pregnancy- nor should you try. A good friend or relative you feel close to and comfortable with can step in to hold your hand, emotionally and physically, during your pregnancy. That person can, in many ways, play the partner role during the nine months and beyond._

The book was right; she did need to find someone to support her throughout her pregnancy. Kate didn't necessarily want someone to accompany her to all of her appointments and classes, but it would be nice to know that someone would come if she asked. Not her dad— that would just be awkward— and certainly not Ryan or Esposito, for the same reasons.

Lanie would do it, if they were currently speaking. Her friend never hesitated to be there for Kate when she needed her, but it seemed selfish to ask now, given that pride had kept Kate from admitting her wrongdoing and shutting Lanie out with her continued silence.

Her problem extended beyond childbirth classes and doctor appointments. Even if she did all of that alone, there was still the matter of labor and delivery. For that, she would need someone with her; someone in her corner to coach her through the pain and encourage her when it all became too much. She would need support.

 _I don't want to think about that right now,_ Kate thought, turning her attention back to the book with a scowl.

 _Since no one will know better what you're going through than another single mom, you might also consider joining or starting a support group for single mothers._

"Yeah right, I'm not going to start a support group," she scoffed.

Though, if she were honest, Kate could admit that she needed someone who understood what was happening to her and could give some advice. She wasn't like most women who, even if unfamiliar with childbirth and all the changes that came with it, had a partner to rely on. For her there was no husband, no boyfriend, not even the proverbial 'Baby Daddy' determined to do the right thing.

Likewise, she had no mother, no grandmother, or wise older sister. Her Aunt Teresa lived hours away, and none of her cousins had children.

The reality was that Kate was alone. No family to lean on, no friend with previous experience to act as her guide and sounding board.

With a frustrated grunt, she slammed the book closed, tossing it to the other end of the couch with a huff. "That's all the advice I get? Stupid book," she grumbled, teeth clenching while hot, angry tears pricked at her eyes. Releasing a shaky breath, Kate pressed her eyes closed, hands sliding through her hair.

"Katherine, dear, are you alright?" Martha's voice pulled her out of pity party as the woman walked towards her, concern flashing in the blue eyes that she shared with both her son and her granddaughter.

"I'm fine," she told Martha, ignoring the slight flush of her cheeks both in embarrassment for her outburst and the feeling that this woman wouldn't let her off the hook with those two words.

Martha gave her a doubtful glance, reaching out to pick up the book from where it had landed against the cushion, flipping it over to study the title. "I'm not sure I believe that," she added, taking a graceful seat at the end of the sofa where the book had been. "Most people don't insult a book and toss it down without good reason."

Much like her son, Martha seemed to be able to see right through her. But unlike Castle, the woman wasn't willing to accept Kate's excuses for various emotions. Martha wasn't pushy; she was direct, and certainly wasn't shy about expressing her opinion. Even so, Kate had never felt attacked or judged when the woman had voiced a different perspective, as she always did it with kindness and respect.

It had been those traits that won her over; why she didn't find herself bothered by the expectant look and the maternal nature. Martha's advice during her stay with the Castles had always been helpful, and there was no reason to doubt her now.

With a sigh, Kate slumped back against the cushion, idly picking at a stray thread at the hem of her shirt. "I keep reading these books, trying to get myself ready for this, and the more I read, the more I realize how unprepared I am. And alone," Kate admitted with a sad smile. "I don't know how I'm going to be a single mother."

"It isn't easy," Martha sighed, placing one hand on Kate's knee. "But you find your way somehow. I did, and there's absolutely no reason that you can't as well."

While wallowing in her misery and self-doubt, Kate had forgotten that Castle had grown up without his father. Famously fatherless, she had heard him say in an interview once with an easy chuckle. Martha Rodgers had raised her son alone, juggling a career that was unpredictable at the best of times and incredibly disappointing at the worst.

"Did Castle's father have no interest, or…?" She felt a bit strange asking such a personal question, but the details had always been vague. This was her chance to get a few of them, and Kate decided she was going to take it.

Martha didn't seem the least bit put off by the personal probe. The woman simply smiled, immediately putting Kate at ease with the twinkle in her eyes. "The only time I ever saw Richard's father was the night he was conceived. I woke up the next morning, and the man had disappeared, without a trace. I haven't seen him since, and had no way to contact him. We weren't exactly concerned with trading phone numbers and writing down addresses."

"That's basically what happened to me." The words were out of her mouth before Kate could stop them, her face burning a deep pink in embarrassment. Martha made the second person that she would share the story of her child's conception with. Whether because she had already told the tale once, to her father, or because of her trust in the older woman, Kate wasn't worried about being judged.

She needed to talk to someone who had been in her situation, and the encouraging nod given to her by Martha had Kate taking a slow breath, gathering her courage to explain the whole situation.

"A case went sideways about three months ago," she began, memories of how it had all gone so wrong leaving her with a scowl on her face. "The killer was in custody, or at least the man we had identified as our prime suspect was in custody, until some evidence arrived to solidify his alibi. According to that, he was innocent, and we had no choice but to let him go."

The stray thread on her shirt that she'd been worrying with finally broke when Kate tugged on it a bit too hard- a proper metaphor if she ever saw one. "By the time we were able to prove that the evidence had been planted and he was guilty, it was too late. The guy had gone to his parents' house and killed the both of them, along with a neighbor who confronted him in the process of the other murders."

She managed a strained smile that felt far more like a grimace when Martha reached out to grip her hand, giving it a slow pat. "I am so sorry, Katherine," she murmured.

"I was upset, and blamed myself that three other people had been killed because we didn't work fast enough. The idea of going home, of being alone and just dwelling on it all didn't sit well with me, so once he had been processed and booked, so I went to a bar. I needed a drink, a crowd of people with noise and distractions, you know?" she asked, waiting until Martha nodded her understanding. "I never do that. My father's addiction taught me not to use alcohol as a crutch or a distraction, and I told myself I would just have one drink. Do some people watching and decompress."

"But I got drunk instead," she sighed. "Hit it off with a guy sitting a couple of stools down that offered to buy me a second one, and then a third. He was cute, made me laugh, and I invited him back to my place." Kate lifted her head for the next part, meeting Martha's gaze head on. "Something fun, just a fling that would be over the next morning and be no big deal."

She wouldn't apologize for it because, in some part of her, Kate didn't regret it. She was an adult, one that so rarely took the kind of risks and made the rash decisions that had marked her teenage years. Yes, she had been drunk, but not so drunk to not understand her choices.

Now, she was taking responsibility for them.

"He was gone the next morning," she finished. "No note, no phone number. No way to contact him at all. And that's not so bad, really— in different circumstances, that would be exactly what I wanted. In any other situation I'd be relieved that I didn't have an awkward goodbye the next morning with promises to keep in touch and maybe grab a drink some other time."

She wouldn't have followed through if that had happened. The guy's number would have likely gone into her trash can and never been given a second thought.

"But I'm having his kid," Kate sighed. "He's going to be a father, and I have absolutely no way to let him know."

And that was the crux of the whole thing, she thought. She wasn't embarrassed about blowing off steam in a bar or bringing a guy home for casual sex. She certainly wasn't going to be ashamed of a child that had no say in how he or she was brought into the world.

It was the lack of ability to contact the father; the fact that she'd never asked for anything beyond a first name. That was her regret and her shame; that her reckless choices had robbed someone of the opportunity to know his family.

"My dear, you have nothing to be ashamed of," Martha said, leaning forward to pull Kate into a warm hug. "You made a choice, one that thousands of others have made before you and more still will make in the future. The guilt is natural, because you expect other people to judge you for your behavior, but there is no reason for that either. No one who cares about you is going to think any less of you, not when you show them what a great mother you are going to be."

It was silly to be crying, but the tears were there nonetheless, sliding along her cheeks until Kate lifted a hand to wipe them away. "I keep thinking that I made a mistake."

"Katherine, no," the woman said, her voice stern with the admonishment, although her eyes remained open and warm. "It wasn't a mistake. It took me a long time to accept that, to see my pregnancy and all the life changes I had to make as an opportunity to be something more. You're growing a life inside of you. You're going to be a mother. Maybe this isn't how you planned or wanted it to happen, but bringing a life into the world is never a mistake. Choosing to love that little boy or little girl could never be the wrong choice."

Kate had to smile at that, one hand falling to rest against the gentle curve of her stomach. "I'm just scared, I think. I don't know how to be a mom."

"Who does?" Martha asked with a chuckle. "You learn by doing, by experience and the mistakes you'll undoubtedly make. Motherhood isn't something you can get a degree in," she said with a smile. "Richard actually asked me if I had done that one day when he was about four. He got this serious look on his face and marched right up to me and said 'How did you learn to be a mother? Did you go to mom school?'"

Kate smiled, easily able to picture Rick Castle as an inquisitive little boy with those sly blue eyes studying the world and trying to figure out all the mysteries that made it work.

"I won't tell you that this is going to be easy," Martha added. "You're going to struggle; you're going to think you've made a mistake or that you are the worst parent in the world. But no mother, no parent, is perfect. Being married to a man or having a father figure in your child's life isn't going to change that. What a child needs from you is love. That's the most important thing. And if you really, truly love them? Everything will turn out okay. Richard is as much proof of that as anyone else, because heaven knows I wasn't a perfect mother. But, still, I like to think I raised a good man."

Kate nodded, staring off toward the portion of the hall where Castle had disappeared to earlier in the name of writing. "I think you did, too," she confirmed.

Martha took Kate's hand and squeezed it again, meeting her eyes with that same determination that her son had when he was after a mystery. "You can do this, Katherine," she encouraged. "And any time you need to talk about anything, just come find me."

The woman rose to her feet with that same natural grace, releasing Kate's hand with her own thoughtful glance towards the closed office door at the end of the hall. "Richard isn't a single mother," she added, "but he is a single father, and I'm sure he would share all of his experience too, if you ask him."

Kate nodded, a few stray tears slipping down her cheek. These were happy tears, though; tears of relief from a weight being lifted from her chest.

"Thank you, Martha," she whispered, taking the book that the woman held out to her and dropping it onto her lap with sigh of relief.

Support system found.

* * *

The kitchen smelled like heaven. A chocolate-coated, cake-scented one.

Rick hummed as he swirled the knife, coating the thick chocolate frosting around the top of the cake, ignoring the way his mouth watered at the prospect of soon being able to dig into his creation. Baking a cake was maybe a bit silly, but he felt there was cause for celebration. Today marked the thirteenth week of Beckett's pregnancy, the official end of her first trimester and, if she was true to form of other pregnant women, the easier part of gestation.

It was still so strange to him that she— Detective Kate Beckett— was on vacation with him and his family. Likewise, it still shocked him that this fascinating woman had agreed to let him shadow her. He'd lived vicariously through her cases for years, imagination running wild with possibilities where he pictured himself working the crime scene alongside her; catching the bad guys, examining the evidence.

Of course, the actual case work he'd observed so far hadn't lived up to the fantastical murders that he had been dreaming about, but Rick had still had fun. A large part of that was due to the iron-willed, incredibly stubborn badass cop with the vulnerable patches underneath all that armor.

She seemed to admire him as much as he did her, another facet that had surprised him on his first visit to Kate's apartment. He'd seen the stack of his novels proudly displayed on her bookshelf, and with sneaky glances during his stay, Rick had determined that she owned every single one of them - even the terrible standalone books from his worst days of writing.

Yes, Kate Beckett was most definitely a fan of his work, but he had never quite found a good moment to mention that he was aware of that fact.

She wasn't fragile, but even with a friendship between them, being around Kate was a little like walking on eggshells. Pregnancy played a large part in her mood swings— he knew that much from living with Meredith while they were expecting Alexis— but it also wasn't quite that simple. Beckett was an interesting study, so reserved and stoic one minute, playful and almost flirty the next and, even still, she would dissolve into tears or rise into anger at the flip of a switch.

Still, he was intrigued by her, mystified by how he had barely scratched the surface of what made up the woman currently occupying one of his many guest rooms.

One thing that was never in question, though, was her love of chocolate. Over the past week, Beckett had a steady craving for it and, even if that hadn't been the case, Rick suspected that she wouldn't have turned down a piece of chocolate cake anyway.

With two careful cuts, he transferred a piece of the still warm cake onto a plate, and then repeated the process with a slice for himself. Despite that it was just after midnight, his excuse of celebratory second trimester cake would hold firm, he thought with a grin, placing two forks from the open drawer beside him onto the plates and giving the drawer a nudge with his hip so that it rolled closed.

In a way, he was playing the odds that Kate was still awake, Rick thought as the plates were transferred onto the waiting tray with two glasses of cold milk. Yes, he had caught the shine of a light under the door the past few nights when he had gone up to bed, but that wasn't necessarily a guarantee.

Still, he was curious as to what in the world she could be doing. Still reading her pregnancy books? Planning for a nursery? Researching birthing classes or hospitals? Secretly reading his novels?

Tray secured in both hands, Castle took careful steps up the stairs, unwilling to spill the drinks or smash the thick slices of cake. The door to Kate's room was open just slightly when he reached it, so juggling the tray with one hand and trapping it against his torso, he gave one single knock that nudged the barrier open further.

"Happy second trimester! I thought we could celebrate with cake," he said, peeking his head around the door frame to grin at Kate.

She was sitting at the small desk in the guest room, the surface covered in an oddly organized system of paper and photos. Beckett flinched at his voice, her head jerking up with surprise and, buried in her eyes, a look of panic.

"Uh, hey," she stammered, fumbling to stack some of the papers together. "I was just—"

He recognized her mother's photo from the alleyway crime scene in the stack; confirmation that she had brought Johanna Beckett's case file to the Hamptons. Most likely it hadn't been planning for the baby at all that had been keeping her up so late, but working on this file in the hope that something from Dick Coonan's case would spark a new lead.

"You don't have to make an excuse, Beckett," Rick said gently, sympathy in his voice as he took another step into the room and lowered the tray onto the king-sized bed. "You also don't have to hide it from me."

Kate released the papers in her hand, shoulders slumping with resignation. "I didn't want you to know," she murmured, her brow furrowed. "I know I shouldn't be dealing with this right now, but I can't let it go."

"I understand," Rick said, taking a seat at the foot of the bed next to the tray. "The development with Coonan was huge. Wanting to study the file again makes complete sense."

"Yeah, but there's nothing here, Castle," she said, a note of frustration in her voice, as she turned in her swivel chair toward him. "I've looked over every inch of this file in the past week, and Coonan doesn't answer any questions. His involvement actually creates more of them."

"Like who hired him," Rick offered.

"And why someone would hire a professional hitman to kill my mom," Kate added. "What was she doing to make someone want to kill her?"

"Right," Rick agreed. "Listen, Beckett, I understand that you want to solve this. But are you sure that you need to be doing this right now? You told me that…"

"I know what I said," she interrupted quickly, eyebrows drawing together with some internal struggle that he couldn't quite figure out. "But it's not that simple."

Curious to her meaning, Castle lifted his eyebrows in a silent invitation for Kate to share the story.

With a rough swallow, she leaned forward in the chair, forearms resting against her thighs and hands clasped together almost as if in prayer. "My mom's case is the reason I became a cop," Kate began, her voice quiet and almost lost in the memory of when she made the decision. "She never got her justice, and my dad and I have had to live with that for thirteen years. I didn't want anyone else to have to go through that, to sit and wait for answers that will never come. I wanted to help the families of the victims since I know what it feels like to be on their side."

"That's what makes you a great cop," Rick said. "You understand. You have empathy. And you don't back down."

"So you understand why I have to do this," Kate replied, careful not to phrase it as a question, but an open-ended sentence that he could agree or disagree with.

Though she was trying to downplay it, the plea for him to understand was right there in her eyes and in the tension on her face. Kate would never admit that she needed his support, never admit that she was weighed down by the lack of answers and, now, was being driven to near distraction at the possibility of maybe getting a few. She looked older suddenly, a woman full of usually subdued grief that had sprung back to life and added a few weathered years to her appearance.

In that moment, he understood it— the obsession she had spoken of once with her mother's case; the way that Kate was so driven to solve it at almost any cost. She had shaped her life around her mother's murder; adapted facets of her personality; even built walls around herself to keep away any potential distraction with the added benefit of not opening herself up to being emotionally vulnerable.

Kate Beckett had made a silent promise, not only to herself, but to her mother, and to her father, that she would solve the case; find the answers.

That need for justice had been her driving for since she was nineteen, and now, with that realization behind him, the woman watching him so carefully made so much more sense. Another layer unearthed; another mystery solved.

"I do understand," he replied, giving a slow nod of his head. He couldn't stop her, of that much he was sure but, maybe, Kate would agree to let him help. "What can I do?"

Kate had been looking everywhere but at him, likely waiting for his skepticism and a lecture about turning her back on the case and focusing on the more important aspects of her life. And maybe she should, but that wasn't who he understood her to be, and in asking for such a thing, he would only push her away.

Still, it hurt him a bit to see her snap back to attention, eyes wide and full of surprise when they focused on him.

"Don't let me drown," she murmured. "It's happened before; it's why I stopped looking into this. And I can't afford to lose myself in this this time."

He offered a reassuring smile, grateful that she'd been willing to not only trust him, but to let him in, acknowledging that she wasn't able to do this on her own.

"I've got your back," he said.

Giving him a cautious smile of thanks, her eyes flicked from him to the tray of cake. Surprise and relief quickly turned to a flash of delight in that deep green gaze, her smile a little less cautious and far more amused.

And hungry. There was a definite edge of hunger wrapped up in all of that, especially the way she seemed to lean a bit further towards the smell.

 _That was subtle, Beckett_ , he thought, his eyes crinkling in silent laughter.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the call of chocolate cake for much longer," he teased with a small laugh, lifting one of the small plates off the tray and carefully passing it to her.

Beckett took the plate from his outstretched hand, giving it a sideways glance before she licked her lips. "You know, I bet this would taste really good with some melted cheese on top," she mused, glancing up at Rick.

His eyes widened. "You can't be serious," he gaped.

"Oh, is that weird?" she asked, a hint of insecurity in her voice.

Castle laughed, leaning over to place the glass of milk on a free patch of space at the desk. "Not at all," he lied. The demands of her food cravings never failed to amuse him. "We're celebrating; you can top your cake with cheese if you want to. But you'll have to forgive me if I don't hurry to do the same."

With that, a grin lit up her face, and she pushed herself out of her chair, motioning for Rick to follow her as she walked toward the door with her plate and glass in hand. "Come on. Cheese is in the kitchen," she tossed over her shoulder, striding out of the room.

Gathering the tray and his uneaten cake, Rick smiled as he followed her, pleased that his idea of Second Trimester Celebration Cake had done Beckett a bit of good.


	7. Chapter 7

Light streamed through the bedroom's large bay windows, waking Kate with the same crash of waves that had lulled her to sleep the night before. The sound was one she'd grown accustomed to over the past two weeks- a stark contrast from the bustling city. It had almost been _too_ quiet for her to sleep at first, but now, she was used to the stillness, the gentle roll of the waves on the shore the soundtrack to a peaceful night's sleep.

Kate squinted out at the rising sun, opening her eyes fully once they'd adjusted to the golden glow. Sitting up slowly, she stretched, then turned to prop her pillow against the headboard.

"Good morning, baby," she whispered with a smile, brushing her thumb across the slight curve of her belly. It was a morning ritual that Kate had adopted, despite the fact that the baby wouldn't be able to hear her voice for a few more weeks. "How are you doing today?"

Her question was met with silence, as usual. One day soon, though, that question might elicit kicks and stretches from inside of her, as her child's way of saying hello back. Hopefully, she'd be able to feel her baby move around the same time the baby could hear her voice.

With another yawn, she reached across to the nightstand for her phone, but found a book in its place. Pursing her lips together, Kate picked it up, tilting her head to the side as she studied the cover. It was a mystery by Michael Connelly. Castle had mentioned the author as a friend of his- a member of his poker group- but she had never read any of the man's books.

Kate was about to set the novel back where she'd found it and pick up her phone when she spotted a note on the nightstand, Castle's neat block print instantly recognizable.

 _I was going to give you this last night, but you were asleep_. _Your door was open, and your lights were on, so I just left it here for you._

The room's lights were off now, and a quick glance at the door confirmed that it was closed. She must have fallen asleep without meaning to last night, and he'd probably turned off the lights and closed the door for her when he found her sleeping. With a grin, she turned back to the note.

 _I don't know if you've read this, but it's Connelly's best. It might be a nice change from your pregnancy books. and I think you'll like what you find on the title page. Happy 14 weeks! -RC_

Kate set the slip of paper on her lap and picked up the book again, flipping to the title page. Connelly's scrawled autograph filled the half page above the printed title, and Kate traced over it with her index finger, smiling.

Castle had given her an autographed book. It was one of many gifts he'd given her over the past several weeks, starting with the motion sickness wristbands he'd given her after their first day of working together. She'd finally realized when he brought her cake at midnight last week that the gifts were intentional, not random, and given to her once a week, as his way of helping her "celebrate" a new week in her pregnancy.

Never had she met a man who was such a perfect gentleman, so caring and willing to take care of her without expecting anything in return. Maybe that's just how he was... or maybe, she thought with a resigned sigh, it was because he liked her.

That's what Lanie seemed to think, anyway. Kate had finally made up with her friend several days ago, and they'd talked, either through text messages or over the phone, daily ever since. When Kate described everything that Castle had been doing for her, Lanie had simply laughed.

"He likes you, Kate," her friend had said. "And you refuse to see it."

But she did see it- she'd seen it since the moment he sat down next to her on the plane. Richard Castle absolutely had a crush on her. Under different circumstances, Kate would be flattered, but she was single and pregnant, and the obsession with her mother's case that had driven Kate's life since she was nineteen was back, threatening to overtake her life once more. The walls around her heart were still there, more fortified than ever.

Kate was dealing with far too much to add a serious relationship to the mix. But Castle's friendship couldn't have come at a more perfect time. He'd taken care of her those first few weeks, when she was too busy trying to deny her pregnancy to take care of herself. And now, he helped to keep her calm, steadying her emotions when it seemed like everything was crashing in on her.

A wave of nausea swept over her, pulling her out of her thoughts, and Kate groaned, squeezing her eyes closed.

"Sickness again, baby?" she murmured, pushing herself off the bed. "I thought we were better friends than that."

Kate shuffled out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her before stepping over to the toilet. The moment she stopped in front of it, the nausea left, just as quickly as it had come over her.

"Thanks, kid," Kate grinned, pressing a hand to the top of her belly. As her palm came to rest on her stomach, the grin disappeared from her face- something felt different. She hadn't noticed it when she was lying in bed, but now that she was standing, it was obvious that something had changed overnight. Her hand still pressed to her stomach, Kate rushed to the mirror. Her eyes fell to her stomach, and _oh, wow…_

Tears sprang to her eyes when she took in the rounded curve of her belly, poking out from underneath her fitted tank top. The shirt was stretched tighter than usual across her midsection, the folds of the fabric completely straightened out. The bump was small, but she was finally showing.

"Oh my God, this is amazing," she murmured.

The morning sickness, dizziness, fatigue, and headaches she'd been suffering from had been all too real, but still often felt like it could just be the flu. The new shape of her stomach finally provided the physical evidence of her pregnancy that she'd been lacking, though; proof that there was actually a baby growing inside of her.

It was absolutely incredible.

After staring at her belly for a moment longer, Kate walked back into her bedroom and opened a dresser drawer, pulling out a loose-fitting top. She wouldn't dare to go downstairs in her tank top- while comfortable to sleep in, it showed off far more of the curves of her pregnant body than she cared for Castle to see. She slipped the shirt on, carefully inspecting her image in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. Her belly, which had been proudly displayed just moments ago, was now hidden under the folds of the fabric.

Now for pants. She had packed eight different pairs, knowing that some of them wouldn't fit by the end of the trip. As of yesterday, she was down to one pair of jeans and one pair of white capri pants, and the jeans had been a little tight the last time she'd worn them, just two days ago.

She fought with the zipper on the jeans, finally forcing it upward, then pulled at the button, cursing when it wouldn't close. Frustrated, she tugged them off, trying the white capri pants that she'd just worn yesterday, but they wouldn't even zip.

Kate swore as she yanked the pants off, wadding them up and tossing them onto the closet floor.

"Fine, kid," she growled, pulling on a pair of lounge pants. "I'll just wear freaking pajama pants for the next two days. I hope you're happy… God, I'm an idiot. I should have known that I wouldn't be able to make it two weeks without buying new pants."

And just like that, the wonderful mood she'd been in that morning was gone. She didn't want to talk to anyone, let alone be seen by anyone- not while she was wearing pajama pants. If it were possible for her to hide out in her bedroom for the next forty-eight hours, she absolutely would.

A loud grumble from her stomach erased all thoughts of hiding from her mind. Sighing, Kate flung open her bedroom door, sulking down the stairs and into the kitchen. After filling the coffeemaker with decaf grounds and flipping on the percolator, she arranged thick slices of bacon in a skillet, then slid two slices of buttered bread into the toaster. As the bacon sizzled on the stove, Kate rummaged in the pantry for things to put on her toast. Peanut butter was a given, and some of those dried apple chips Castle had bought to sprinkle on salad would be good with it, too. She'd put some cheese on top, and maybe a dash of salt...

"Morning, Beckett!" Castle's voice boomed as he entered the kitchen, a smile on his face.

Kate rolled her eyes and kicked the pantry door shut with her foot, arms filled with her assortment of food items. "It's way too early in the morning for you to be this cheerful," she said with a grunt, dumping the items onto the counter.

He grinned and stepped over to the bacon, quirking an eyebrow. "I see that you're making your special toast again."

"Hey, don't mock."

"It's okay; I put chocolate milk on my cereal yesterday morning," he replied with a shrug, poking at the bacon with a fork. "Makes it taste better."

"Why doesn't that surprise me, Dad," Alexis said, rolling her eyes, as she walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning! Beckett and I were just comparing interesting food tastes," Castle said, turning to face his daughter. "Speaking of food, Alexis, could you do me a big favor and make a grocery store run this morning? I have to wait for a repair guy to come fix the hot tub, or I would go myself."

"Sure, Dad. I'll go after breakfast."

"I'm coming with you." The words tumbled out of Kate's mouth before she could stop them. Both father and daughter furrowed their eyebrows and tilted their heads to the side in reaction, identical masks of confusion on their faces.

Shopping for maternity clothes with Alexis certainly wasn't ideal, but Kate couldn't live in plaid pants for the next two days. This would be a perfect opportunity to buy something to last her until she got back to the city. Lanie would kill Kate for buying her first maternity clothes without her- her friend had spent fifteen minutes of their phone conversation last night planning every detail of their upcoming shopping excursion together- but at least Alexis would stay in the car and not ask any questions.

"Oh… okay," Alexis shrugged. The look of confusion on her face melted into a determined attempt at nonchalance as she squared her shoulders, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder. "It's whatever."

"You need to get more fancy toppings for your morning toast?" Castle asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Yep. You seem to be out of anchovies. I'm kidding," she added, giggling at the look of horror on his face. "Oh… and thank you for the book."

He instantly perked up, grinning like a little boy on Christmas morning. "Good, you did see it! Have you read that one before?"

"No. I don't think I've read anything by Connelly, actually."

"Oh, you'll love it," he said. "Connelly is very talented. He's one of my poker buddies. I've told you about that, haven't I? See, once a month or so, I meet up with some authors to play poker, and…"

Kate shook her head slowly, grinning as she tuned him out, busying herself with spreading peanut butter over the slice of American cheese she'd centered atop her toast. She'd never tell him so, but he was cute when he got excited.

* * *

"You're wearing that?" Alexis wrinkled her nose in disgust the moment that Kate climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

"Well, it's all I have… my pants don't fit anymore."

"Oh." Alexis gave the plaid pants a pointed look as she turned the key in the ignition. "I guess you want to go clothes shopping, then?"

"Yes, if that's alright with you."

"It's fine," Alexis answered. The flat, clipped tone of her voice said just the opposite, but she wasn't going to argue, and Kate was grateful.

Neither one of them spoke for the first five minutes of the drive to town, pop music blaring out of the radio. Kate stared out the window and watched the countryside pass by, not even noticing when the music grew quieter.

"Where do you want to go, Detective Beckett?" Alexis said, breaking the silence. Kate pulled her eyes away from the window and looked at the girl, whose knuckles had gone white with her tight grip of the steering wheel. Alexis's refusal to use her first name hadn't gone unnoticed, but Kate brushed it off.

"I really don't know," she answered. "I just need something to get me through the next couple of days. I'd be fine with just a discount store."

"Well, there's a T.J. Maxx in Bridgehampton, but that's another few miles past here."

"That sounds good to me. Unless you don't want to go that far, I understand…"

"It's fine," Alexis interrupted. "I don't mind."

Kate was struck by the awkwardness of their conversation; the forced politeness and pleasantries. Without the buffer of Martha and Castle, the conversation stalled again. Kate tried once more, still hoping she could find a way to engage the sweet, wonderful girl Castle had spoken so much about.

"I just can't believe how stupid I am," she started, sighing. "I mean, my pants were already tight when I came here, so I should have known that they wouldn't fit anymore by the end of the trip. I keep reading in all of my books about 'pregnancy brain,' and I guess it must be true."

Her rambling was met with silence. She glanced over at Alexis, who seemed to be paying no attention to Kate whatsoever, keeping her eyes focused on the road as she drove.

"Sorry," Kate murmured. "I know I'm rambling. It's just… I feel like it's always so awkward between us, Alexis. And I don't know why that is."

Alexis shrugged. "Doesn't seem awkward to me, Detective Beckett."

"The fact that you've never once called me by my first name indicates otherwise," Kate said. "Listen, if I've done something to offend you, please let me know. I don't want there to be anything wrong between us. I just… I want to fix this."

"There's nothing you can fix," Alexis said. "It is what it is."

"What do you mean?"

Alexis was silent for a moment, one hand white-knuckling the steering wheel as she lifted the other to run her fingers through her long red hair. Finally, she took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

"Do you know what it's like to have something you've been looking forward to for ages ruined, without any warning?" she said, glancing over at Kate for the first time since they'd gotten in the car.

The question caught Kate off-guard, and she opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Alexis didn't give her long to think of a response, though.

"I mean, I've been looking forward to this vacation for months now," she started. "Ever since Dad bought this house, it's been our family tradition to come here when school gets out. Just me, Dad, and Gram, for two weeks. We never bring boyfriends or girlfriends, or anyone else- just the three of us. It's family time. And that's what I was expecting again this year, only to find out you were coming a few hours before you showed up. ' _Hey, there's this random woman that I met a few weeks ago that's going to infringe on our long-held tradition of family time in the Hamptons that no one else has ever been invited to_ ,'" Alexis said, dropping her voice low in a perfect mimicry of her father.

"Wait, your dad didn't make sure it was okay for me to come?" That was a surprise to Kate- Castle had seemed so certain that his mother and daughter would be happy to have her join them.

"Nope. He just dropped that bomb on Gram and me at breakfast that morning," she said, the agitation in her voice growing. "And Gram was totally fine with it, but Dad never once asked me how I felt."

"Oh, Alexis, I'm so sorry," Kate murmured. "He told me that it would be okay with you… I didn't even dream that he didn't ask…"

"Okay, so he was supposed to talk to me about it, and he didn't," Alexis said. "And I'm mad at him for that, trust me."

"Then why are you taking it out on me?" Kate asked. "I completely understand why you're mad about that, but why are you upset with me?"

"You said yes."

"Alexis, if I had known…"

"Even if you didn't know it was a family tradition, you still didn't have to say yes," Alexis interrupted. "You'd known my father for only a couple of weeks when he invited you to come with us. He might as well have been a stranger to you, yet you agreed to spend two weeks on a family vacation with him? I mean, I'm trying not to judge, but you're a single, pregnant woman; you can see how that looks. I'm still not sure I trust you."

Oh. The judgment Alexis had passed on her was exactly the sort of reaction Kate had been fearing, and it hit her like a blow to the gut, tears springing to her eyes in the aftershock.

"Alexis…" she started, blinking hard to fight the tears back. "Thank you for telling me all of that. But you're wrong."

Alexis furrowed her eyebrows- whether in confusion or in anger, Kate couldn't tell- but said nothing, flicking on the blinker and glancing over her shoulder as she switched lanes.

"Your dad asked me to come here because he saw how much I was struggling," Kate started, after a deep breath. "My mom was murdered when I was nineteen, and after she died, I poured my whole life into her case. I even became a cop because of it- I made it my life's goal to bring her justice. But that obsession drove me in such a terrible downward spiral… I was destroying myself," she said with a sniff. "I finally put it away, but then her killer practically dropped into my lap last week, and I got sucked right back in. That drive came right back. And I can't destroy myself this time, because if I do, I hurt my baby, too."

She took a shaky breath. "I told your dad all of that, Alexis. He wanted to help me get away from the case so that I could have time to heal, and he offered me this trip as a chance to escape. When I said yes, I wasn't thinking of myself, or of him, or of anything else but my baby."

Placing a hand on her stomach, Kate swallowed down the last of the tears. "I a _m_ sorry your dad didn't make sure it was okay with you that I come. But I have to protect this baby from everything, including myself- even if that means leaving the city when everything in me wanted to stay."

Alexis looked taken aback, her eyes wide in confusion. "Wait, you mean you didn't want to come here?"

"Not at first, no," Kate sighed. "You're right, I haven't known your dad for very long. I mean, how would you feel if some guy you'd only known for two weeks asked you to go on a vacation with his family?"

"Really awkward. And I would have said no," she said, throwing a pointed glance at Kate.

"Trust me, I thought about it," Kate replied. "But I knew I had to get away, and I knew I couldn't do this on my own. I had to swallow my pride and accept your dad's help. And yes, I'm single and pregnant. You're right," she continued. "I didn't plan to be, but I can't exactly do anything about it. All I can do is take care of myself, and my baby."

Alexis was silent for a moment, focusing on locating a spot in the store's parking lot. Once she'd maneuvered into a parking space and shifted the gear into park, she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face Kate, sighing.

"I… I understand," she muttered, her eyes not meeting Kate's. "It's not your fault, but I took everything out on you, and I'm sorry. This isn't what I imagined our vacation would be like, but having you here… it hasn't been all that bad."

There was a smirk on Alexis's face as she met Kate's eyes, and Kate grinned in response. "Not all that bad, huh?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Alexis let out a huff of nervous laughter, her eyes somber. "Can we start over?

"Of course. Hi, I'm Kate," she said, smiling as she extended her hand.

"Alexis," the redhead responded, a matching grin on her face as she accepted the handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Kate."

* * *

Their final evening in the Hamptons was pleasantly cool, clouds blocking the rays of the setting sun. It was the perfect time to grill burgers and eat out on the patio, Rick decided. As he gathered the ingredients for the meal, Beckett wandered into the kitchen, joining him at the counter.

"Need any help?" she asked.

"Nope. I'm the grillmaster tonight," he declared, wielding a spatula and a pair of tongs in his hands. "Dinner's on me."

She giggled, shaking her head slowly. "Fine, then. I'm making brownies."

"Ooh, did someone say brownies? Count me in," Alexis piped from the kitchen table. "I know a great recipe for Mexican brownies, Kate, if you're interested."

"Mexican brownies are my favorite!" Rick exclaimed, nearly dropping the tongs in his excitement. "I'll come help once I finish grilling."

"Nuh uh, Mister Grillmaster," Kate scolded, shooing him out of the kitchen. "You go make dinner. Alexis and I will take care of the brownies."

"Fine," he sighed with a mock pout, allowing her to close the kitchen door behind him.

Rick could hear their giggles from the open kitchen windows as he grilled, and he smiled. The sound of laughter was refreshing; a stark contrast with the awkward silences and forced pleasantries that had shadowed Kate and Alexis for nearly two weeks.

He wasn't sure why Beckett had accompanied Alexis to the grocery store yesterday morning, but they'd been gone for far longer than he anticipated. Just as he was about to call to make sure they were alright, they came walking in the door, smiling and joking with each other. From the number of bags in their hands, it looked as though they'd gone to more than one store, but he hadn't asked any questions. The two were clearly friends now, whatever issues they'd had with one another forgiven and forgotten.

Just as Rick pulled the burgers off the grill, Beckett and Alexis came outside, Martha following behind them. The three women chatted at the table while he fixed their plates, and the conversation between them only ceased when the timer on Alexis's phone rang twenty minutes later, and she ran to the kitchen to get the brownies out of the oven. She returned a few minutes later with four paper plates in her hand, and distributed them across the table.

"These are delicious," Rick declared, swallowing his first bite.

"They are," Beckett agreed. "I never would have thought about putting chili powder in brownies, but these are amazing."

"I agree. Nicely done, ladies," Martha declared. "Well, you three cooked while I was planning my spa getaway with my girlfriends, so take the rest of the evening off. I'll clean up."

"Thanks, Gram!" Alexis said with a grin, standing. She slipped off her sundress to reveal her swimsuit underneath and ran to the hot tub, turning on the jets and sinking into the warm water with a contented sigh.

Martha collected the plates and disappeared into the house, leaving Rick and Beckett sitting at opposite ends of the table. Beckett shifted in her seat and turned away, staring wistfully at the pool area. She'd nearly smacked Rick when he'd prevented her from getting in the hot tub on their second night there, and he'd had to pull up the research on his phone right then to prove to her that the hot temperatures could be dangerous to her developing baby. She'd acquiesced, but not without a certain amount of grumbling.

Kate lowered her eyes after a moment and ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. If she was still bothered by the fact that she couldn't relax in the hot tub, sitting here staring at it wasn't going to make things better. He needed to distract her.

"I think I'm going to walk down to the beach and hunt for seashells. Care to join me?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Beckett raised her head and met his eyes with a shrug. "Sure, I guess," she said, starting to push herself out of her chair. He rushed to her side when she grimaced, extending his hand, and she took it, a grateful smile on her face as he helped her stand.

"Thanks," she murmured as they walked down the porch steps, heading toward the water. "I've just really been hurting the past couple of days."

"Hurting?"

She nodded. "My back, mostly."

"Well, I guess that makes sense. Baby's growing," he commented, gesturing toward her belly.

Her cheeks flushed, and one hand flew to her stomach. "I… can you tell?" she stuttered, her voice quiet.

"No," he said, stretching the syllable out. "I mean, your shirt is so loose that even if you were showing, I wouldn't be able to tell."

Beckett exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping. "Sorry, I shouldn't be paranoid," she said. "It's just…"

They'd finally reached the sand, the ocean just a few yards away, and Beckett stopped. Her eyes flicked up to meet his for a brief moment before she looked down at her hand, still resting on her belly. Slowly, she brought her other hand to the bottom of her stomach, and pressed her shirt down flat, turning slightly to the side so that he could see her new shape.

"This happened," she said quietly.

His eyes widened as he took in the curve of her belly. It was still small, as evidenced by the fact that she'd been hiding it under her shirt, but much more pronounced than before.

"Beckett… wow," he breathed. "You really are pregnant."

 _And more beautiful than ever_ , he thought. Not that he'd ever say that part aloud, though.

"Excellent assessment, Captain Obvious," Kate said, rolling her eyes as she pulled her hands off of her stomach, her belly disappearing under the folds of her shirt once more. With a grin, she slipped off her sandals and walked toward the ocean. She shivered when her feet dipped into the water, but took two steps forward, allowing the waves to lap over her feet as she stood still, staring out at the horizon.

Rick didn't follow her immediately, instead standing on the shore and watching her for a moment. Kate's curled hair shimmered in the golden glow of the sunset, and her shirt fluttered in the breeze, skirting the edges of her hips. She reached to the hem of her shirt, tugging it down, and when her hand migrated slowly back to her belly, almost as if it were a subconscious movement, he smiled. Gone was the woman he'd met one month ago who was struggling to come to terms with her unplanned pregnancy; the new Kate Beckett embraced her upcoming role as a mother, the love she had for her unborn child obvious in the delicate way she carried herself now, the gentle touches to her belly, and the easy way she spoke about it now. Although the pain of her mother's case still shrouded her, the transformation he'd seen in her over the past two weeks was incredible.

Rick unlaced his shoes, leaving them beside hers on the sand as he stepped into the water to join her. When he came to stand beside her, she turned to him, a smile on her face.

"Thank you for inviting me to come here," Beckett said. "I've really enjoyed it."

"I'm glad you came," Rick answered, smiling back in return. "I wish you could stay longer."

"Me, too," she said with a sigh. "But I have another doctor's appointment on Wednesday. And Lanie took off work on Friday so that she could take me clothes shopping for _decent_ maternity clothes."

"That sounds like something Lanie would say," he said with a laugh. "But we have to get back, too. Alexis is leaving for a camp on Friday, so we have to pack. And Mother has her spa getaway with her friends…"

"And what about you?" Beckett asked. "What will you do?"

"Oh, I'll probably do a lot of writing," he said. "And by that, I mean I'll goof off and procrastinate for most of the day."

She let a small laugh escape before her face turned solemn, and she pressed her lips together. "So you're still writing that book with the character based on me?"

"Yes," Rick answered. "I already have several chapters written, and I might be able to get it finished and sent off to the editor before your suspension is up. Who knows, if they like it, I could write a second book based on the adventures of a detective on desk duty."

"So you're…" she started, her eyes widening. "You still want to shadow me after I go back?"

The sadness in her voice nearly broke his heart. So _that_ was what she'd been so down about earlier that evening- she thought he wouldn't want to work with her anymore once she was on desk duty.

"Of course," he assured her. "That is, if you still want me to. Just say the word, and I'll be gone."

"Like what happened the last time I told you no, huh?" she sniffed, a smile beginning to ghost at the corners of her mouth.

Was she really still angry with him about that? "Beckett…" he started, fumbling for an apology.

"I'm just messing with you, Castle," she said with a smirk, her face softening. "I'm really glad you showed up anyway. I have a hard job, and having you around makes it a little more fun. And if you want to come back, I… you can," she faltered, her cheeks flushing with the admission.

He smiled. "I guess we'll figure out desk duty together, then."

Before she had the chance to respond, the clouds that had been filling the sky all evening finally burst, sending down sheets of rain that soaked the two of them within seconds. Beckett squealed, running toward the shore, and Rick followed after her, stooping down to grab both pairs of shoes on his way. They finally reached the house, both out of breath and dripping puddles of water onto the porch.

"So much for gathering shells," Castle said, chuckling between deep breaths. "I think that's the most exercise I've ever had at the beach. You okay?" he asked, suddenly concerned as he noticed the way Beckett's hand had flown to her chest, rising and falling rapidly with her shallow breaths.

"Yeah," she said with a grin, her cheeks rosy. "I'm great."

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** My wonderful beta, Dee, had to step down temporarily. This chapter was edited by Kate (Kate Christie) and Alex (aspenmusing). Thank you for your help, ladies, and thanks to Cris and Cathey for encouraging me to publish._


	8. Chapter 8

The good thing about finally looking noticeably pregnant was the guarantee that she'd get a seat on a crowded subway car. No one wanted to make a pregnant woman stand.

Kate had felt a flush of embarrassment the first time someone had risen from their seat the moment they spotted her, just last week, but had managed a tight smile as the middle-aged man ushered her into the newly vacant chair. Now, though, she'd grown used to the kind gesture, offering her genuine thanks to the men and women who rose from their seats to allow her to get off of her feet for the duration of the ride.

And people said New Yorkers weren't nice. So much for that.

Or maybe they were just following the directions of the strip of MTA ads that lined both sides of the subway cars, reminding people of how to be polite. _Keep your bags in your lap to save space. It's a subway car, not a dining car. Poles are for your safety, not your latest routine. Offer your seat to elderly, disabled, and pregnant people._

While Kate hated having all eyes immediately drawn toward her the moment she stepped onto a subway car, it had become a game to try to choose which person in the vicinity would be the first to jump from his or her seat. As the doors slid open, she made eye contact with a man in a suit who looked to be about her age, seated on the opposite side of the car. _Him. He'll be the first._

To her surprise, the man quickly averted his eyes downward, pretending to be too absorbed in something on his cell phone to have noticed her. The teenage boy beside him jumped up, though, offering Kate his seat with a polite smile. She thanked the kid as she settled down next to the businessman. If she wasn't mistaken, his cheeks were beginning to redden.

 _Serves you right_ , she thought, running her fingers across her stomach for added effect.

Kate couldn't deny that she'd purposely worn a shirt that hugged her belly tighter than usual today. She was proud of her new shape, now that she was finally past the awkward "expecting or just chubby" phase of her pregnancy. The swell of her abdomen was still small, but to Kate, it felt enormous, as if she'd eaten fifty cheeseburgers in one sitting. Her belly had a tightness to it now, a hardened roundness that it had never had before, and it poked out from underneath just about everything she wore. It could still be hidden under loose, flowy tops, but today certainly wasn't the day for that.

Today was her first day back at work after her suspension. Her first day to face her coworkers and friends after revealing her pregnancy in the worst possible way. Selecting a form-fitting magenta top, paired with a grey blazer and black maternity jeans, was her way of outwardly showing her confidence. Gone was the old Kate Beckett, who wanted nothing more than to hide her pregnancy from everyone. She'd had six weeks away to come to terms with her pregnancy, and she wasn't the least bit ashamed.

At least, that's what she was telling herself.

Kate opened up the pregnancy tracker app on her phone, reading the eighteen week blurb as the subway car rumbled down the tracks. It was always good for at least one eye roll, offering the latest update in her baby's size in comparison with a fruit or vegetable- a bell pepper this week, apparently. There was useful information in the update, though, assuring her that her increasing appetite was perfectly normal and that if she hadn't already felt the baby move, it would certainly happen soon.

And she hadn't, yet. The fluttering in her belly right now could be blamed on nerves, not the child inside of her moving around.

It was only when she climbed up the stairs out of the subway tunnel and onto the busy streets, spotting the precinct just down the road, that she felt the nervous flutterings begin to overtake her, working her up into almost a panic. Why the hell was she this nervous about going to work, when she'd been perfectly fine just a few minutes ago?

She managed a few steps down the sidewalk before she froze. Almost immediately, an angry commuter shouted obscenities at her for stopping the flow of pedestrian traffic, and she backed up against a store window with a quick apology. Once the majority of the crowd of people had passed by, Kate began to pace in front of the window, trying to work up the courage to continue down the sidewalk.

The people that she was about to face were her coworkers- her friends. Yes, they'd stare, but they'd get used to her belly soon enough, so the scrutiny wouldn't last _that_ long. But that wasn't the part she was worried about. No, the thing that made her feel the most nervous was imagining the reception that her fellow detectives would give her upon her return. She had virtually lied to them for weeks by concealing her pregnancy for so long, after all, and she hadn't spoken to any of them since the day she'd practically shouted her news across the bullpen for everyone to hear. Knowing Esposito, he would be angry, and Ryan would probably throw in as many passive-aggressive comments toward her as he could manage. Of course, Espo would join in on that. And the questions that everyone would ask…

"Beckett?" The sound of her name startled Kate out of her panic, and she froze, whirling around to face the person who had called her. His deep baritone voice was unmistakable. Castle.

It had been four weeks since they'd returned back to the city from the Hamptons, but she hadn't seen him in seventeen days, not since she'd accepted his invitation for dinner at Remy's one night. It wasn't that she was ignoring him- she'd just needed the time to herself. Time to make hospital visits, to begin organizing and clearing out her spare bedroom for the baby's nursery, and to browse catalogs and make a list of all the things she'd need to purchase in the upcoming weeks.

And time, of course, to continue working on her mom's case; to review the case file again and again in an attempt to find something that she'd missed.

"Hey, Castle," she faltered, tucking a loose curl behind her ear in an awkward gesture.

"Hi." His eyes quickly traveled up and down her body, lingering on her stomach for a brief moment, and a grin lit up his face. "Wow, Beckett," he breathed, his eyes alit as they met hers. "You look great."

She felt her face flush with the words, and her hand flew to the top of her belly instead of rising to cover her flaming cheeks. "Thanks," she murmured, flustered by his sincere compliment. "It's a… bell pepper."

Damn it, that's not what she meant to say. But Castle was already grinning, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"You're growing a bell pepper in there?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "All this time, I thought it was a baby."

She shook her head slowly and flicked her eyes downward, dropping her hand to her side. Seeing Castle for the first time in so long had her completely flummoxed, as if she were a middle school girl with her first real crush again. This man had a way of making her feel things that she hadn't felt in years; things that she honestly wasn't sure that she even wanted to feel.

Despite herself, though, she had to admit that she liked it.

Castle raised his wrist level with his eyes and shook the sleeve of his blazer back, glancing at his watch. "I was going to get to work a few minutes after you; let you have time to get settled before I showed up," he said, lowering his arm. "And I thought you started work at 8:00, but…"

"I do. Just running late," Kate interrupted. "It was a weird morning."

"Understandable. Well, I'll hang out here for a few minutes and give you a head start, if you want," he offered.

The gesture was sweet and well-intentioned, as were most things Castle said and did. He was offering to give her space, just like he had done for the past two weeks;, to let her have time to adjust to her new surroundings before he joined her. Normally, she did need that space, but not this time. Entering the precinct with him, rather than being alone, would not only take some of the attention off her, but also help give her the courage and confidence she needed to walk through the doors to face her coworkers.

Not that she'd tell him any of that, of course.

"You don't have to do that," she said simply, looking up at him. "Come on."

With those words, Kate summoned as much confidence as she could muster, turned on her heels, and began to stride down the sidewalk, leaving Castle to jog to catch up with her. He did, falling into pace beside her after a few seconds. The effort of walking so quickly put a strain on Kate's lower back that was hard to ignore, but she pushed through it. She'd finally given up on wearing heels for that very reason, foregoing the extra boost in height in exchange for reduced back pain.

It was strange to be so much shorter than her shadow, rather than equal in height with him. Having to look up at him, instead of being eye-to-eye, made her feel strangely vulnerable, a feeling that her protruding belly only increased.

The summer sun beat down on them, relentless, as they walked the short distance to the precinct, and Kate let out a deep sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from her temple. She had known she would regret wearing a blazer like this in July, especially being eighteen weeks pregnant, but had done it anyway. She'd probably end up shedding it once she'd settled at her desk in the precinct.

"You okay?" Castle asked from her side. Ever observant, that man.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "Just hot."

"It was the same way with Meredith when she was pregnant. My ex-wife," he clarified. "She was miserable just about all summer."

Kate offered him a grateful smile. Despite Martha's advice, she still hadn't been able to bring herself to tell Castle about her baby's father, but he'd been supportive anyway, almost commiserating with her, in a way. He never turned the side effects of her pregnancy into a joke, instead gently supporting her in whatever way he could. Having him at her side definitely wasn't a bad thing.

Even with him at her side, though, she was still nervous, and the silence between the two of them wasn't helping her feel any better. She asked Castle about the progress of his book, hoping he could drive the conversation.

"Oh, it's going well," he answered. "It's just about finished. I found a plot hole that I need to go back and fix, but once that's done, I'll have it ready to send off."

"A plot hole?"

"Yep," he said, placing his hand at the small of her back as they hurried through an intersection, the light on the crosswalk blinking red in warning. "I forgot to explain an important detail of Nikki's backstory, and…"

"Wait, Nikki?" Kate interrupted, looking up at him. "You named the character Nikki?"

"Nikki Heat," Castle confirmed with a gleeful nod. "Isn't that a good name? Think of all of the title possibilities I can get from that. _Heat Rising, Heat Wave_..."

"Castle," she sighed. "That's a stripper name. You've got to change it."

"Well, now, Nikki is based on you, Detective Beckett, and you've told me very few details of your life before becoming a detective…"

A pinch on his bicep was enough to silence him, and she found herself holding on longer than she intended to, thoroughly distracted by the strength and size of his muscle bulging underneath his blazer. She snapped to with his exaggerated yelp, releasing him as he shouted "Apples!"

"Apples?" she asked, lowering her head to conceal her reddening cheeks.

"My safe word," Castle said with a shrug, winging as he rubbed his hand over the place she'd pinched. "You got me pretty good, Beckett."

She must have pinched a lot harder than she meant to. Feeling sheepish, Kate raised her head to apologize, but froze when she saw that they'd arrived at the precinct. She grabbed Castle's hand and pulled him to the side, stopping at the window of the building next door.

"Castle." She kept her voice quiet, fully aware that her colleagues might be coming in and out of the building, possibly overhearing them. "Before we go in there, I… I mean, they don't know," she faltered. "No one knows that I went on vacation with you during my suspension, or that we've seen each other since. They don't know any of that."

"Beckett," he said, lowering his voice matching hers. "I know today's a big day for you. A hard day. And I don't want to make it any harder than it has to be. You don't have to worry about me being professional. I'll behave. Scout's honor."

He held up his right hand with the words, as if he were swearing an oath, and Kate pursed her lips together in an unsuccessful attempt to keep a grin from making its way onto her face. "Good. Because if you don't behave, I have a gun."

Castle raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side, and she sighed. She wouldn't get her weapon back until after she returned from maternity leave. She was so used to having it that the words had come without a second thought.

"Damn it. I don't have a gun."

"It's okay. You're on desk duty now, so you'll have my weapon of choice: a pen. And the pen is mightier than the sword," Castle said with a smile. "Or the gun, in this case."

"Cute," she murmured, rolling her eyes. "Alright, let's-"

A tiny fluttering in her belly unlike anything she'd ever felt before stopped Kate in her tracks, and she gasped, a hand flying to her stomach. Castle took a step closer to her, concern in his voice as he asked if she was okay, but she ignored him, focusing on the movement she'd just felt. _Was that the baby?_

A second fluttering confirmed it, and tears sprang to her eyes. "I just felt the baby move," she whispered, still standing frozen in place.

The look of panic on Castle's face melted into awe. "Oh, Beckett," he murmured. "That's wonderful."

The way he was staring at her, a proud smile on his face, flustered Kate even more than feeling her child's first movements had, and she dropped her hand to her side, straightening. "I… uh…" she fumbled, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes. "We should go in. I'm already late, and I have a meeting with Montgomery."

"Want me to make coffee?" he asked. "I can have it waiting for you on your desk when you're done talking to the captain."

"That would be great," Kate said with a grateful smile, taking two steps away from the window. "Oh, and Castle? Make it caffeinated. I want to give this kid a jolt of energy so that I can feel more movement."

She'd expected a fight with those words, but he only smiled, wordlessly following her into the precinct. Unlike just a few moments ago, her nerves were now completely stilled as they rode the elevator up to the precinct floor. She'd finally felt her baby move. Today was going to be a good day.

* * *

Kate stepped out of Montgomery's office and into the bullpen twenty minutes later, her bravado having gradually faded back into nervousness as she spoke with the captain. The room was mostly empty, with only a few cops milling about, but she kept her eyes trained on the ground as she walked toward her desk. She couldn't avoid talking to them forever, but maybe she could at least postpone the conversations with her colleagues until she'd had her coffee.

Castle was sitting in her desk chair, and he stood up as she approached, stepping behind it and pulling it out for her. The chivalrous gesture may have been over the top for two people who were trying to pretend that they had nothing more than a professional relationship, but Kate accepted it anyway, flashing him a grateful smile as she sat down.

He took his seat beside her desk, sliding a blue mug across to her. "It's half caf," he said. "I figured that would be a good enough compromise for us."

Kate murmured her thanks as she took a sip, turning her computer on. "Did anyone come talk to you?"

"Ryan and Esposito came by to say hi," he answered. "Lanie needed them in the morgue, so they couldn't stay, but they wanted to talk to you. Said they'll be back in an hour or less."

She nodded, setting her mug down on her desk. The boys were her closest friends at the precinct, and she'd seen the looks of hurt on their faces when she'd revealed her pregnancy. She could manage being confronted by everyone else, but she was particularly dreading the conversation with them.

"So, Detective, what exciting plans do you have for us today?" Castle asked, folding his hands together atop her desk.

Kate leaned back in her seat, sighing. "If you want exciting, you'll have to find another detective to shadow," she said. "Because you're not going to have very much fun between now and November."

"It's that bad, huh?"

"Compared to being out in the field, absolutely," she said. "Right now, Montgomery's giving me the rest of the morning to catch up on email. And mail, too." Kate gestured to a pile of envelopes at the corner of her desk.

"Sounds like fun," Castle said. "Then what?"

"Well, Montgomery wants to keep me in this room as much as possible. And I'm glad for that," she added. "So I'll be mostly doing background research on cases, running financials, cataloging evidence, phone calls, that sort of thing. When there aren't any active cases, I'll be filing warrants, organizing the evidence room, and whatever else they need me to do. And paperwork," she added, rolling her eyes. "Lots and lots of paperwork."

"Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you," Castle said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Kate shrugged. "I know it won't take long before I'm bored to death stuck behind this desk, though. At least I get this afternoon off."

"You do?"

"Yep. Doctor's appointment and ultrasound this afternoon," she answered. "And if the baby decides to cooperate, I'll find out if I'm having a boy or a girl."

"Oh, that's easy," Castle remarked. "It's definitely a girl."

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. "And how do you know that?"

"Trust me. I just know."

"Well, I happen to think it's a boy," a deep voice announced from behind her. "Hastings and Jenkins do, too, and most of the other officers."

Kate turned around to find L.T. standing on the other side of her desk, a bright smile on his face. "Welcome back, Detective Beckett. It's good to see you back here again."

"Thank you," she answered, breathing a sigh of relief. If the unis weren't harboring any hard feelings against her, this might not be such a rough transition, after all.

By the time L.T. walked away, Kate's computer had finished booting up. She opened her email, her eyes widening when she saw the bolded number at the top of her inbox.

"Eight hundred and twenty-seven emails," she murmured, raking her fingers through her hair. "I hope you brought something to do, Castle, because this is going to be a long morning."

"Angry Birds," he answered, pulling his phone out of his pocket with a grin. "Don't worry about me. I'm good for the rest of the day."

He settled back into his chair, and within seconds, he was absorbed in the game, cheering silently as he made his first shot. Of course Richard Castle was an Angry Birds fanatic. That shouldn't surprise her.

Forty-five minutes later, Kate had finally managed to delete all of the irrelevant emails in her inbox. Some were spam, but most were official city or NYPD notices about things that had taken place while she'd been on suspension. Only 202 emails remained now- still a huge amount to deal with, but not nearly as overwhelming as before.

She opened the first relevant email, an invitation to the retirement party for the captain of the 10th precinct. She'd met the man several times before, even worked with him once, and he was very kind, always showing a genuine interest in her life. She should definitely attend his party.

As she was inputting the details of the event into her work calendar, Kate heard the distant ding of the elevator arriving. As the doors slid open, two very familiar voices began to ring through the bullpen, growing steadily closer.

Before she had time to remember the conversation she'd rehearsed all night last night, Ryan and Esposito spotted her, halting their conversation as they took the last few steps to her desk. Kate raised her head to meet their eyes, her attempt at a smile disappearing from her face when she saw them standing in front of her, eyebrows raised and mouths tight.

"Hey, guys," she managed.

"Hey?" Esposito echoed, a tone of indignation in his voice. "You lie to us, then disappear for six weeks, and all you have to say is 'hey'?"

"Look, guys..."

"Why didn't you tell us, Beckett?" Ryan interrupted. "I thought we were friends."

"I didn't tell-"

"Castle knew, didn't he?" Esposito interrupted. "I can tell by the way he was treating you the last couple of weeks you were here. You told the writer that you were pregnant, but not us? Your friends?"

"Whoa, leave me out of this," Castle interjected. "It's not my fault that my spidey senses are so strong when it comes to detecting pregnancies."

"Guys, listen. I'm sorry." Wow, she'd finally managed to get a sentence out without the boys interrupting. Their faces didn't soften with her apology, but they were silent, waiting expectantly for her to continue.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Kate echoed. "Things are complicated. And that's not an excuse, but I was just having trouble dealing with everything. I couldn't tell people about the baby until I'd accepted it for myself. But I have now. And I promise, I won't keep you out of the loop anymore."

For just a moment, Ryan's face softened, but he quickly squared his jaw, the look of defiance on his face matching Esposito's once more. Kate was guessing that Ryan would be the first to break, and hopefully, his partner would follow soon after.

"I'm on desk duty now," Kate continued. "I may occasionally be called to a crime scene, but most of the time, I'll be here, doing… well, doing the stuff you guys used to do."

"Used to," Esposito repeated. "So you're saying we outrank you now?"

"Well… kind of," she replied. "Until I get back from maternity leave, you two are the acting lead detectives for the Twelfth."

"So we get to boss you around?" Esposito asked, a spark lighting up his eyes.

"Nice try," Kate said, allowing a tiny grin to spread across her cheeks. "My title hasn't changed. Just my job duties. But I know you guys will do a great job."

Esposito threw a glance at Castle, who had been sitting in his chair silently, taking in the conversation. "Will he be shadowing us now?"

"Sometimes," Kate answered, raising her eyebrows as she looked toward the writer. "He's a pest. I'll need to get rid of him from time to time."

"Not fair, Beckett," Castle said. His mock pout was so exaggerated and pathetic that she wanted to laugh, and Kate had to smother a grin.

Ryan turned back toward her, placing his hands on his hips. "So is it a boy or a girl?"

Well, that certainly wasn't what she was expecting to hear. Kate looked up at the detective, furrowing her brow. "What?"

"Come on, you're having a baby. You're- you're having a baby," he repeated, his voice softening as he dropped his arms to his sides. "And Uncle Kevin needs to know if he should buy a little baby tuxedo or a frilly dress for the kid's first Precinct Christmas party."

And just like that, Ryan had forgiven her. He offered her a soft smile, ignoring the glare Esposito was shooting at him, and Kate grinned in return. "I find out this afternoon," she answered. "And I promise, I'll tell you both. No more secrets."

"It's a boy," Ryan said. "I'm sure of it."

"Wrong!" Castle announced, looking up from his phone once more. "It's definitely a girl. Espo, what do you think?"

Esposito took a deep breath, as if he were about to say something, but before he got the chance, Montgomery poked his head out of his office and into the bullpen. "Detectives," he said. "A word, please."

Out of habit, Kate shot up to her feet, realizing with a start that she was no longer included with her fellow detectives for the time being. Despite the fact that she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, Kate decided to pretend she had meant to stand up, pushing her desk chair in and smoothing her hands over her pants. She would disappear to the break room- no, the bathroom- for a minute or two, then come back and pretend that it had all been on purpose. She could feign that confidence; of course she knew that Montgomery hadn't been talking to her.

As she stepped away from her desk, Kate looked up to see that neither Ryan nor Esposito had moved toward the captain's office. They were standing frozen in place, staring at her- at her belly, to be exact. Ryan's cheeks reddened when she met his eyes, and he offered a hesitant smile, walking away quickly. Esposito lingered for a moment longer, though, his gaze softening as he took in the rounded curve of Kate's belly.

"I…" he started, looking up at Kate. He didn't finish, though, pressing his lips together as he turned on his heels.

Kate watched him stride away, and only when he'd closed the door to Montgomery's office firmly behind him did she allow herself to relax, a grin making its way onto her face. Ryan was on her side once more, and she was confident that Esposito would come around soon.

* * *

When Rick had arrived home at 12:30, he'd opened up the file for the book on his laptop, determined to fix his plot hole. After just under three hours of work, Nikki Heat was complete, and he emailed the file to Black Pawn. Gina would certainly be happy to see it; she'd been bugging him about his next novel for months now.

Rick sank back in his chair with a sigh of relief. He'd finally done it. He'd completed his first novel since killing off Derrick Storm. And he owed it all to Kate Beckett. His time shadowing her certainly hadn't gone as he'd expected it to, but as it turned out, he didn't need to see her at work to find inspiration. Detective Beckett wasn't the driving force behind his writing; Kate, the girl behind the badge, was his muse. Spending time with her, both in and out of the precinct, had filled him with a desire to write, stronger than he'd ever felt before.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and Rick pulled it out, surprised to see Beckett's name on the caller ID. The only times she'd ever called him at home had been to inform him of a murder, and now that she was on desk duty, that certainly wasn't the case.

Rick swiped his thumb across the screen as he lifted the phone to his ear. "Beckett?"

"Hey, Castle," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "I, uh… am I catching you at a bad time?"

"No, not at all."

"Okay, good," she said, with a sigh of relief. "I just walked out of the doctor's office. I'm sitting in my car right now."

There was a beat of silence, and Rick pursed his lips together, confused. Had Beckett just called to chat? That seemed unlike her, but Rick had no idea why else she could be calling.

"Sorry," she finally said, giving an awkward laugh. "I just can't stop staring at this ultrasound picture. It's… it's incredible. It actually looks like a baby."

"That's good," Rick answered. "Because after our conversation this morning, I was afraid it would look like a bell pepper."

She giggled. "You're never going to let that one go, are you?"

"Not until you give me another fruit or vegetable comparison," he said. "So did Pepper show off for the camera?"

"Oh my God, yes," Beckett said, so excited that she didn't seem to notice his new nickname for the baby. "She wouldn't stop moving the whole time. She was doing all of these flips and stretches, and I could even feel some of it. I think I'm going to have a gymnast on my hands."

"Wait. _She_?" The pronoun hadn't gone unnoticed, and for a moment there was silence on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. She," Beckett finally answered, and he could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke. "You were right, Castle. I'm having a girl."

His earlier insistence about the baby's gender had been a joke. Truthfully, he had no reason to think that the baby was a girl. But the fact that his guess was correct made Rick's heart swell with pride.

"You're having a girl," he repeated, his voice soft. "I'm so happy for you, Kate."

Using her first name had been unintentional, but she seemed not to notice, thanking him instead. "Well, I have to go," she said. "I need to call my dad now."

It was only after they'd hung up that Rick realized the significance of those words. The first person she'd called upon finding out her baby's gender wasn't her father, or her best friend, but _him_. That certainly spoke volumes for how his friendship with Kate had progressed, and what she thought of him now. _Wow._

Even though it wasn't necessary, Rick felt the need to reciprocate in some way; to tell her that he appreciated what she'd done for him without saying it directly. He stood, patting his back pocket to ensure that his wallet was inside, and sent a text to his town car driver, asking him to pick him up as soon as possible. Rick would show up at the precinct the next morning with the cutest little girl clothes he could find from Manhattan's finest baby boutique.

This was just the start of the gifts he'd buy for Kate and the baby over the next few months. And maybe, when Pepper was old enough, Kate would let him buy the little girl a pony.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** I'm picking this story back up for the summer 2016 ficathon. Here's to hoping for lots of updates over the next four months._

 _Also, I once again have a beta change... say hello and thank you to Cathey! You're the best, friend._


End file.
